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Claire Collins May 2014
You can not get angry right now. everyone is looking.
exhale
focus on the
exhale
        inhale
**** colored popcorn diesel tobacco
place two feet ten toes on red dirt
swing
no paws
you are not a dog
no one is asking you to sit
spin your phlegm past your uvula
Loogie perpetrates surprised face
this is much more effective than fisticuffs
disgust.
disgust them as much as they are disgusted by you
see
your tastes are mutual
samasati Sep 2012
i have so much love in me and around me
it is impossible to bathe in anything else like
a ****** resentment or an unlimited reservation of sadness

even though those sicknesses are okay and are always curable,
i feel too alive and sure of myself to cough up a loogie of ill-peace

how can I not be okay - right now?
is there a way to prove myself otherwise?

always - we are
HERE
and nowhere else

if only we'd just take a step back and take a look at the illusions
of past or future we've been rolling around in

those are just stories!
and the essence of who we are is not replicated from any external judgement
because a judgement is just another illusional story
that pries into our belief that we will not make it through another day.
but you can, and i can
and you deserve love and i deserve love

and if you take a step back and really look at where you are,
you will see that
you are okay right now too.
Mutulu Kafele Feb 2015
I Wrote her a love letter but she dropped it.
No money for the metro so we hopped it.
No money for the petro so I hocked a loogie
Then pawnshop hocked it:
Spitting that sick **** for profit.
We sat prostrate in front of our profit, then,
With her wet wig at the end of my mop-stick.
Check her prospects, then, blurry her optics.
We fly out in a flurry of topics.
I'm the nit-wit in her twit-pics:
The photo-bomber.
But she stopped its clock-ticks when she cropped it.
I should have told her,
I'm so fly she would die in my ****-pit.
And the Black Box is,
The love letter in her back pocket but she dropped it.
The ******* Wind (~Mk.) Notsuoh Poetry Night. Houston, Tx.
Frisk Feb 2016
October 11, 2013 -*
Chloe's POV
____________

“Wonderland looks like a ******* acid trip.” I mentioned, while Hayden silently dragged me along pressing his fingers so roughly into the skin of my arm that I could feel my pulse surge through my arm. “Come on, don't tell me you don't think the same.”

“Where is Alice?”

I pointed towards the cage, containing one of the seven princesses. “There.”

Hayden took off his hood, and stepped up to the podium to stare at Queen *****. Oops, I meant the Queen of Hearts. Her square face and extremely large lips coated in a ruby waxy color along with the bad contouring made her look like a drunk housewife who hates her kids. “Who are you? How dare you interfere with my court!”

“What if I find you the real culprit? Will you let Alice go?”

“That's hogwash. Find me proof, then we'll talk.” The Queen of Hearts yelled in her unnecessarily loud and booming voice, startling even Hayden's hardass personality.

The solitaire card guards stood at bay, wielding their weapons at their sides. One of the guards locked the gate, and threw the key up towards the queen who spun the key ring around her finger. Hayden stepped back, gripping my arm forcefully again. “Dude, can't you loosen up?”

Hayden huffed. “Shut the **** up. If you don't follow my orders –”

“You'll do what? **** me? I thought you needed my soul to enter the Final Keyhole.”

Hayden tensed up the muscles in his hands around my arm, literally dragging me along with him. The moment we entered the forest, he loosened his grip on me slightly as he walked forward mumbling something about wanting to have me on a leash.

“Yeah, because I'm literally a *****. Get it?”

Hayden threw me up against the wall, pressing his balled up fist beside my face. His nose was nearly touching mine as he gave me a humorless look. I could basically see the evil in his eyes. “You're not ******* funny. After we open up the Final Keyhole, I'll finally be able to ******* get rid of you. All you are to me is ******* trash. Do you understand that?”

I spit a loogie in his face. “Get off of me, *******.”

Before I could react, he took out his keyblade and slashed up my left arm drawing a lot of blood. With gritted teeth, I said, “You – You will never ******* open up the Final Keyhole. Not without me.”

My body started losing consciousness almost immediately, and I felt my body drop down onto the forest floor. If looks could ****, I would have been dead the moment Organization XIII captured me three weeks ago. Finally, the darkness swallowed me and I welcomed it's homely embrace.

“There's a legend behind those paopu fruit: If two people share one, their destinies become intertwined. They'll remain a part of each other's lives no matter what. I've always wanted to try it."  Max mentioned, putting her bare feet into the water.

“You know legends are basically myths passed down over generations?”

She looked over towards me with this soft gaze in her face, and I felt the air ****** out of me as the sun hit her azure blue eyes the right way. “I know it sounds stupid, but I want to do it sometime.”

“Grab me the axe out the shed, Max. We're gonna chop down one of these trees.”

“Are you kidding me?” Max had this worried look on her face, and I rolled my eyes.

“Yes. Come on, slowpoke. We're losing daylight here.”

A few minutes passed as I soaked my feet in the salt water, and I laid down in the sand whenever I was met with Max who held the axe above me. I flinched, and sat up quickly. “You scared me.”

“Give me the axe.” She handed it to me, and we raced each other to the top of the lighthouse. Of course, Max was faster since I was lugging around this dense axe. When we made it to the tree, I started swinging the axe into the tree. I got tired super quickly, since we basically raced each other. “This activity takes so much energy out of me. You and I shouldn't have raced up here.”

“It was fun. Let me try.” Max grabbed the axe from me, and swung with slightly more force than I did. After several of Max's swings, we watched the tree start leaning towards the water.

“You're doing it, Max!”

“Max the Axe Queen!” I shook my head grinning as the tree finally groaned, spintered, and collapsed off the top of the hill of the lighthouse crashing into the waters below. “Oh no...”

“I'll get it.” I nodded. “I'm a good swimmer.”

As I swam over towards the crash site, I noticed that the tree has gotten caught on the gap between one of the rocks so the leaves of the tree and some of the fruits were still showing. I was surprised that the stems of the paopu fruits stayed on. “I found the *****!”

“Chloe!”*

Immediately, I recall that Max never called for me. I swam back to shore, right? Her shrill voice rang in the air louder. Then it became deafeningly loud. That's when I felt fabric wrapped around my arm. My finger twitched as I started to realize that Max was screaming my name. “– And you don't understand anything. You're just a weak kid with a keyblade.”

“I may be weak, but my heart is strong.”

“Then show me that you're strong, because all I see is a hopeless girl saturated with optimism. Like you can do anything with those doormats you call your sidekicks.” I struggled to open my eyes, eventually peeking out. This was the first time I was looking at Max Caulfield in five years, and she looked ******* furious as she held the keyblade.

“Don't you dare talk about my friends like that!”

“Try and ******* stop me, you twig.”

Her eyes immediately flickered towards me, and I did the shushing motion with my lips when I weakly pointed up towards Hayden. She looked back at Hayden, positioning herself. With all of the strength in my body, I kicked Hayden in the back of his knees making him collapse over me. “What the hell?”

Quickly, I crawled out when he grabbed at my leg. “Get back here, *****!”

Max sprinted towards Hayden, her keyblade drawn and positioned to attack Hayden when he blocked Max with his own. This gave me enough time to crawl out of his grip. Two keyblades, something I've never seen before, came forth from Hayden's hands as I ran towards Max's side, throwing out my hand to manifest my sword. My heart was beating against my chest as I pressed my back up against Max's. “Good to see you again, Max.”

“Same here. Distract him, I'm going to heal you.”

Then it was my turn to fight Hayden, who looked furious. Max healed my wound in the background as I ran from Hayden. With Hayden equipped with two swords and knowing he is dexterous with both his left and right hand, defense was very difficult on my part. Eventually, he kept on throwing slashes over at me and that's all I could do. “Come on, Max. I'm basically blocking here.”

While Hayden was occupied by me, he noticed Max was building up a fire attack which he quickly darted towards the left as the flames hit a tree in the forest. The tree slowly started building up a fire as Max and I started clashing swords with Hayden. At one point, he swiped Max towards the ground and pinned me up against one of the burning trees. “You better back the ******* right now.”

“You're ******* scared, aren't you?” I yelled at Hayden's face, who pressed the keyblade against my neck. Everything started feeling uncomfortably hot, especially the sweat that ran down my face. My eyes glanced over towards Max, who quickly ran off towards the fruit upstairs.

“Where did that ***** Max go?”

Hayden spotted Max eating the fruit high in the tree, and his face went pale. Max slowly started growing in size, and that delay was enough time for me to run from Hayden. Once Max was at full size, she grabbed Hayden like a ******* teddy graham. “Leave my friends alone.”

She crushed him in her fingers, and his body shattered into billions of pieces. After checking that he was executed properly, she wiped her fingers on her shirt. “Woah, Max. That was ******* awesome.”

“Let me get down on your level first.” Max joked, grabbing the fruit out of the tree. Once Max shrank back to normal size, the blonde haired girl with wings had came over to heal my arm injuries with her keyblade. As Max approached me, I felt my heart jolt once I saw how big the smile was on her face.

****, she's ******* attractive now.

“Cards! Find whoever made this mess, and exterminate them. Off with their heads!” The familiar booming voice of Queen ***** interrupted my thoughts, and for once, I was thankful to hear such a nasally and unattractive voice.

"Oh ****!" Max whisper-screamed, grabbing my hand.

We ran towards the tea party set up yet abandoned by Alice and her friends, and hid under the table as we heard the Queen's voice, followed by the clapping footsteps of the Solitaire Cards.

“So are you going to introduce me to your friends?” I whispered to Max who was at my side, nudged her in her arm.

“Maybe later, when we're not stuck under a ******* table.” She gently grabbed my arm, and I noticed her touch greatly contrasted with Hayden's rough one. I excused that thought as soon as it ran through my head, silencing our breathing as the cards marched through the abandoned tea party. It must have been fifteen minutes of cards patrolling the area making sure it was clear before we crawled out.

I wiped the grass off my pants when Max threw her arms around me in the process. “Max, you're a ninja. That was some quick thinking. You're still smart.”

“I missed you.” Max buried her nose into my collar bones, curling her arms around me and pressing me close to her. I could feel her heart beating rapidly from the leftover adrenaline from the fight. Almost immediately, I returned the favor throwing my arms around her neck. Something about her smelled sweet, and I allowed myself a moment of peace and serenity with my best friend.

“I missed you too, Max.” Max tightened her grip on my shirt as I tried pulling back. “What?”

“Chloe, I've been looking for you for years now. I thought you were dead.” Max was crying, but from the way she was smiling, I could tell that it was tears of joy. Something in me blossomed as I pulled her into my chest again. “It's just...I'm so glad to see you.”

“Yeah. Same here.” Eventually, she let go, and I turned towards Max's friends. “Sorry for that. Looks like my best friend can't keep her hands off me. I'm Chloe Price.”

Warren and Kate both shook Chloe's eager hand. “Come on, Chloe. We have to leave before the cards find us and try to **** me.”

“Lead the way, Max.”
the dirty poet Mar 2019
it was the greatest sputum sample ever collected in this hospital
the guy wasn’t coughing, he wasn’t doing anything
except lay there like a dead fish
we’d smash the ezpap mask on his face to inflate his lungs
useless
the doctor asked me to get a sputum sample to see what was growing in there
"the guy does nothing," i said.  "he doesn’t cough"
"can you NT suction him?"
push a plastic catheter up his nose, into his lungs
"that’s pretty invasive for a sputum sample"
"can you do it?"
"yeah i can…  i never have for that, but i can…"
so i go in with his nurse and my student
i have the catheter ready, all lubed up
i’d want a lot of **** if it was my nose
but first i put a sample jar under his mouth
and say "look dude, i need you to spit in this cup"
i don’t know if he’s listening or what
"if you can’t do it i’m gonna go up your nose with a rubber hose
it doesn’t hurt exactly but you’re not gonna like it
but i won’t do it if you can spit in this cup"
his eyes are half open
he’s possibly considering it
"COME ON DUDE, SPIT IN THE CUP!  HOCK A LOOGIE!"
then we hear a rumble
it’s like the awakening of a volcano
"DO IT!  HOCK A LOOGIE!"
we hear it coming up the pipe
"YES!  DO IT!"
it sounds substantial and it keeps coming
i open his mouth and holy mackerel
there’s a gallon of yellow mucus
it’s astronomical, a ******* tidal wave
i shake the cup under his mouth
"SPIT!  DO IT!"
but he doesn’t spit
his mouth is full as a bucket
but it’s not going anywhere
"give me that yankeur," i say to the nurse
she gives me the stiff suction wand
i don’t even plug it into the vacuum
i just use it to scoop the phlegm from his mouth into the cup
"o my god," says my student
she’s getting an education today
i keep scooping, filling the cup
"wow," says the nurse
she’s seen a lot but she’s never seen **** like this
"ALRIGHT, DUDE," i say, capping the cup, laughing
it’s the greatest sputum sample in the history of the world
There in the road lay a free-minded crustacean.
Turned out to be no more than a wayward piece of insulation.

.
.
.

“Please allow me to introduce myself; I’m a man of wealth and taste”
Turned out to be no more than a man cleaning up basic waste

.
.
.

Good morning fool…
I said to myself.
Reaching for the uniform on the bottom shelf.
Spent a few minutes putting it on,
Insuring the curtains weren’t fully drawn.
Stood a minute posing before the glass…
A man bellow presented himself as a colossal ***
So I dropped a loogie just over the edge
Poor aim left it hanging from my window’s ledge
                              
                            ­  .
                              .
                             ­ .

The streets were swarmed with the innocently vain,
Looking for regal alleyways to make a social gain.
Marching through the “Slickers” campus,
Watching the bobbing of books holding tidbits on the hippocampus.
.
A new year comes.
The freshman student runs.
Princeton ushers in a new breed;
Teaching that blue is the only blood to bleed.

                                                         ­   .
                                                            ­.
                                                            .

­As I stumble towards the school,
Can’t help but feel I’ve been made to feel the fool.
Snickers jab at my waning pride.
Preppy children always seem so snide.
Overhear a remark mocking my attire,
Said by an ascot wearing boy filled with mire.
Left the path for ivy coated building.
An hour later, the day’s dwindling.

                                                     ­                                 .
                              ­                                                        .
       ­                                                                 ­              .


A teacher stands at the front of a classroom.
A man at the back sweeps with his broom.
The professor,
Proceeds with his lecture.
Spreading misconceptions on malformed events.
The man at the back cleans the covers on the vents.
There, a question is put toward the crowd.
The janitor in the back answers aloud.

                              .
                         ­     .
                              .

I shouldn’t have opened my ******* mouth!
Who cares if bigotry’s still relevant in the south?
People glare in mocking jest.
Blankness sits on the faces of the rest.
I’m only here to pick up the trash,
A job I use to make some extra cash.
They all have money for a proper education.
There’s no time for me, and my financial situation.

.
.
;
Swanswart Aug 2016
The bubbling bits, the melted crayons,
the wads of cellophane,
the loogie hocked up,
accidentally,
on the face of a loved one.  
the picture booth refrain.
The K mart moment, the screaming kid--
your kid (your screams) your blue light special in aisle
number nine, #9, no. IX.
The bar code ritual,
the magazines, the chamber, the Better Homes
and Gardens, the tomato worm majesty and sci-fi reality;
the 45 that skips, that skips,
that skips
the rubber cement execution.
The antiques, the answering machine genius,
the message,
the quit.
The key that would never fit
(even though it was really the right one after all.)
The said and done, the leftovers, the flat screen TV,
the belly in effigy, the remote,
the space in between
her ears and her heart.  
The cards, the paper cuts,
the canopy of foil on an ancient afternoon.
The bar room, the bare room, the broom swept
corner of the attic.  
The memories, the empty frame,
the carousel stare into the light.
the left behind,
the clouds in the sink,
the feeling you get
when you let
the microwave
be
a weapon.
MST Mar 2014
There he was, just a boy, sitt'in by the street,
impressionable and young, innocent through and through,
up comes a *****, giving him a smile that was sweet,
crooked teeth, coked up nose and spitting a loogie of chew,
she looked at him and impressed a world he never knew.
"Hey there boy, you're looking bored, happen to got a dollar?
I swear, you got enough and I'm gonna make you hollar!"

The boy stared at the boisterous cleavage which she presented,
as he didn't realize the trouble she fermented,
he stood up tall and looked her in the eye,
and replied to her with his voice so wry,
"Now listen up ***** and listen well,
I won't pay a dollar until I prove it isn't hell!
But if you can ****, and ****, well then time will tell..."
The boy had no idea what he had said,
but he wanted to be like his father who was now dead.
The ***** looked down in utter shock,
but this didn't stop her from making money from ****,
she taught the boy her every move,
which in the future he would learn to improve.

When it was done that young man had changed,
his mental capacity had re-arranged,
you see, in his life he had learned so many things,
about violence, *** and all the drug kings,
people would blame it upon the violent/minority gene
but what can you expect, when someone is just thirteen?
Ray Suarez Dec 2015
I was walking down Gaffey Street
2 am
Drunk with only
The moon
To watch over me
Up ahead I saw
This black guy
Leaning against a newspaper stand
He was drunk too
He was staring straight into my eyes
I thought about looking down
But that would be submission
I stared at him and put my chin out
Blew my chest up
He saw this
And stood up straight
Hocked a big loogie
I balled up my fist and
Stepped closer
Feeling more alive than ever
Thinking about death
How it wouldn't be so bad
When we finally got an
arms reach away from each other
We did the up and down look
I knew he could take me
I finally said "You alright man?"
He spit again
I walked past then turned around
Walked backwards
He was still staring
Nothing happened
I turned around and heard
"****** ******!"
I stopped
Then thought
That's not so bad
And kept walking
The hardest part of being a man
Is that we all have to be
******
tough guys
Ken Pepiton Jun 4
Creating a passing remark… recreation…
in a mind, a reified fine distinctive will…
said in such a way
as to hold reason on rails, as we rise
slowly to the apex, before the drop.

Such sorts of talks as one might hear…
while thinking something missing…

listen, instants reminding winding
ways, whither so ever this mind listeth.

Then and now, originating force, used
in fact as wind fitted 'round makes uses
of letters leveling the imbalenced powers
using long slow upslope with peak powers
pulling from the down side, launching
minds into wonders yet beheld hid in
understandin' laws selecting ears, hush
such as seek the source of joy used to lure.
The joy strength knowing
Words was writ becoming

Power, to make motion, umph
to push the self positioning
reflex past off imbalence,
back to on imbalence,
patient
waiting being not on or off,
but here in time at a tempting,
attempting attended by all who
have ought against my will to be
as plain as day and simple as phi.

A Sermon on Novel Incomplexity
spiraling wider in reaching for more

in an autodidactic country church,
carried on by disciples of the founder,
the called of Truth, and chosen to teach,

to cultivate as one tends to tender vines,
those lost souls caught in strains confusing
will and ways, mixing will and spirit,
soul and minds creative by nature's go'd
and we the goaded on, kicking not back, but
some will to know, in terms we all agree with,
using terms that yoost to be ere words empow'rin'
agreement to trial rentals,
old works, functional,
used goods
to be retold as true
by some, so called holders
of the lessons learned
for sharing, as affection, any surplus seed.

Did I act, in course of time, of course,
gravity does matter, all ups have downs,
strange and charming ins and outs.

Fast make my point, in effect, a will to make, machen,
means make, manufacture, reify imaginary ways,
same as Latin facere, as a matter of fact, says

Google Translate, at my behest, hight, answer swear
"take or utter an oath,
make a solemn declaration
with an appeal
to divinity" deus "god, deity"
(from PIE root *dyeu- "to shine," and sworn so

to tell me all the etcet'ras as ye's called, Wille zur Machts,
"the driving force behind all living beings, including humans" making thinkable things
useful to rethinkers, at some point…
any wishing uses wills of some sort in fact,
so if your wish were peaceable,
imagine it taken up by all, at this point

try umph und dinkum, humm as manly virtrutheous will to make stuff up allows,
to lighten the load
of memory reminding me
of olden meanings fed me
to teach meekness, as penance
for troubling my house to inherit wind.
As grace, breath, taken, forming this fected
will to use and by using gain more of this will
working wonders to let us think we understand,

three point curving arches in a process known
as growing through the creative process,

supported by the will a toddler achieves upright
status as a force
to be reckoned with
on new terms, better balanced
at agreement, mental fixedness of purpose,

supposed and set as pivot point in time,
myrrh tipped darts - cursor arrows telling course, marking distances in steps,

exclaiming this is the pleasure pursued,
subconsciously diverted in to golf,
{I sell rescue *****, I never played the game}

a fruitless pastime perfecting will
with aimed at pride, some cheat for.

Ranting chance expletives,
followed by, amen…

there above, our letters bringing the common tongue,
into total disarray,

to think the meaning -breathing, the common sense
since simplicity stepped from sublimnity,

to light the way, by mind's alit with news,

actual knew knowns, new translations,
accepted as accurate, aimed
from then to now,

another day in your life,
another day in our life, we wordform spirit minds
kinematic cinematic role inversion,

existing Ich heize, Herr Klumpen, ein Pepito, no mas.

A ******, a loogie, a phlegmish mass spat at nada,

deemed as worth a minute
as any made up will let go
in just right down sloped acceleration
joy may spark an avalanche where avalanche's wait.
Growing old in an easy-by-luck old age, in a presummer quiet,  
before school lets out the seeds
of my past perspicacity, Will to power, is better thought willingness to make.
for taking that chance
to have babies who had babies,
that look like my selected
perfecting other , and read like me,
in hammocks I can see from my porch.
Summers become alive here.
Justin S Wampler Oct 2020
I fret and twist my hair into little knots
I twist and I twist until it all falls off
I like to hit my teeth with a hammer
I pick my skin until it bleeds
I pick the scabs I pick the moles
I peel off my skin in layers
And leave them on the desk to dry
I scratch my scalp and shed my dandruff
Onto the kitchen counter
And line it up with a dunkin donuts gift card
And snort up the lines of dead skin
I pick my nose and eat my boogers
The wet and bloodier the better tasting
They stick to the roof of my mouth
And I hawk a loogie on the ground
I *** right onto the ******* carpet
And never ever clean it up
The crusty hard spot that forms
Is dark and yellow with time and accumulation
I clean my ears with my pinky
Then lick it out from under my nails
I slam my head against the wall
Until all the photos fall
I play with knives and fire and drugs
I love to give myself a hug.
The look on my face inside the mirror
Is pure bliss from popping all my zits
My eyes shining the same color
As the flecks of **** inside the toilet
I never ever clean the shower
I **** in the sink sometimes too
I hung all my posters with glue
I stack my laundry in a tower
And wear my clothes until they reek
Drank every night for 20 weeks
I hide my toenails under the carpet
I dry myself off with the drapes
I like to live all alone
I'm finally free inside my home
I saved those photos on the shelf
Someone save me from myself

— The End —