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Haddie Brenner Jan 2020
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,
Catch the monster by the toe
It will holler,
Don’t let go!
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.

Eeny, meeny, miny, mite,
It will squirm and scream and fight.
It will pull your hairs and bite.
Just hold on, use all your might,
With all you’ve got, keep holding tight.
Eeny, meeny, miny, mite.

Eeny, meeny, miny, my,
When it stops to rage and cry,
Look the monster in the eye,
And ask it, why?
Just ask it, why?
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2016
to me, the Cartesian saying had to be relegated to shrapnel,
i treat the cogito
                                           ergo                       sum
like i'd treat atoms, brushing and
signaturing each other with
a stabilised unification
under the name: helium, or hydrogen.
evidently that's also a term
for three dimensional space
and the cohorts of chaos that come
from it.
           but something worries me,
intrinsically it's what i would simply
term: the automation of thinking.
basically? it's blood hard to stop thinking,
to do yoga to intricate being
in nothingness,
    as Heidegger suggested:
non-being is a tier below nothing,
      and i guess automated thinking
comes from non-being,
because there's this intrinsic manifestation
of instinct found in all sport activities
that doesn't allow thinking to take place,
no footballer thinks about his exertion
on the football pitch, no golfer maps
out a system of thought to *** the hole
in one...
                some would even say
that thinking is a form of laziness,
          i find that the whole notions turns
out to be a **** up affair of concern,
the mere notion that thought is automated
    and cannot be barricaded against
its relentless battering our very being
is due to the fact that so many of us
do not attain the all that glitters is gold
particularity of fame...
             it's not that we are doubtful,
but that we are mindful / thoughtful,
a few of us make it to the top of the sardine
can, but so many of us are minding
our own business on this placebo earthenware:
yes, i call this a placebo urn of things
needed (people always rave about nouns
anyway, call it slang, or whatever,
it trends, hashtags and the outdated
forms of phone numbers - calling big brother
eeny, meeny, miny, moe) - i could
swear it's so, but then again, maybe not so.
still (what a crass digression),
coming back to the Cartesian shrapnel...
           basing in on weights and measures -
it's so tiny, that expression,
                      we can think the realistic
and only express a centimetre of the world,
we can be the realistic and only
express a centimetre of the world,
  and then we can think the illusionary
and express a mile of the world,
        and we can be the illusionary and express
   a kilometre of the world:
toward the basis of fame and contentment of
  the shadows...
       yes, we have achieved a "death" of history,
by simply stating our recreational pursuits
being more important than our
need for historical eventuality and crisis, and change...
we have stated a "death" of history
via our population size, our ability to combat
diseases (whether infantile or of a certain maturity),
yes, we have established a congested world,
which facilitates nothing quite like a herd
(cattle mentality): hence the modern concern
for alienation... we're created a collective manifestation
of insects, or as one might suggest
  this is yet another geocentric and heliocentric
concern for us... although relegated to
egocentric and the collective ethos of comrades -
but given the former has been eradicated
as it was previous known: communism -
      in economic vocabulary it's all but gone,
but still exists in the sports: yet again,
the re-surfacing of abolishing automated thinking,
namely, automated collision with the daily
activity - either competitive or mundane,
    as we all soon realised: if automated thinking
is not eradicated by automated doing
     we end up mentally distraught -
our own thinking alienates us and even progresses
to symptoms that have no viability
       concerning a drowning man, nonetheless
we're actually drowning.
i can hardly think that nothing is an abyss -
       to me thought is an abyss (cat meows,
i write, the fermentation of wine goes on in
four jars to my left, bob, pop, bob, pop,
and daniel licht is playing to the fatty *****
that's my brain) -
                     i knew that ponderings ii - vi
would get my creative juices flowing:
finally! a book on philosophy that i can comprehend
within that bilingual complex i've established!
or: this much can be said upon
giving a supermarket cashier a signed copy of
my actually printed works
     and hearing a compliment with eyes
waxed with glee (Tarah);
           now i have 100 copies to push,
become akin to a drug dealer with poetry,
           and that's not going to be easy
without p.r. and all that jingly marketing qualms.
still, what's there to be done
        if not that there is something to be done,
even if it's nothing, or a pebble on a mountain:
which is why there is so much
   potential in individuality, but also so much
angst - instead of doing crosswords we have
other riddles to be bothersome about,
   but so few even get a ?         to be concerned with.
again the Cartesian shrapnel equation,
              so much is staged on it in terms
of how thinking becomes automated, robotic
to the point of making children succumb to
    premature depression -
      back when premature dementia was the hit
on Broadway or in an Estonian lunatic asylum
in the 19th century,
when we first received our psychiatric vocabulary,
now it's the young who are odd
   and it is premature depression,
          a bit like the black plague, against
all hopes, a single identifiable folly.
             and where the best rewards?
solitude, where else?
                          for all that swindling of the talk of species
and competition within / without,
        always one ******* says:
                           i am the zeitgeist - always one:
are there really benefits to realising that
****** equation? are there? to feel alive, to feel
conscious, or the madness of Nietzsche's reversal
stating that he's a thing that simply, exfoliates
necessary thought?
           thought is primarily a moral ought -
the should i or shouldn't i?
        it's intrinsic, inherent and simply: just there...
or in the unlikely event, a step into the abyss
   and subsequent pathologies of the enabling of
   a destruction of the soul: as manifestation
of a transgressively transcendent embodiment
of pure body.
                 so, against all duality, i simply fathom
that ****** thing as shrapnel,
     curiously via (as i already might have said):
so much thinking doesn't precipitate into being,
     and so much being doesn't precipitate into thinking -
or of those who adorn mental silk fabrics and Solomon rings,
         and those who have to pay for elocution
lessons due to their ****** endeavours -
      yet again, alignment with Thesaurus Rex,
cue: down Synonymous Avenue
                     because how many times are we sharpening
our narrative trying to feels less inclined
                 to exfoliate in the exotica of what's
the necessary verbiage, and escape into single
identifiable meanings, without poker, without politics,
without sexualised ambiguity?
for me language should work, not be desecrated
to fun: it, should, work;
                     or here i rest my ambitions,
without any poetic dogma - or to make poetry unrecognisable
when stated, for no reason to discredit
   the systematics of poetry: but for reason
                        Kraken wrangler on language -
as much as Nietzsche might have said about
      philosophical systems and their errors and lack of
honesty: i say as much about poetry careful to
be identified as such: metaphors, imagery blah blah -
all things that make people conscious of what
they're reading is actually what they're reading and say
it's poetry - as i said to the supermarket cashier:
enso (Japanese,
marcon purposively missing) - to write while standing up,
and so the reader is standing up,
         not a novel you take to bed,
                     and read for months on end,
dozing off, or sneering at "uneducated" people
on the train...
                         i might as well be writing instruction
manuals for the sadistic training of ballerinas -
              one cut, one incision, and get the **** out;
or at least that's the idea -
      learn to spell, work on punctuation variations,
    learn to tie your shoelaces... and don't believe in
the word edit.
Dana Jan 2014
Close your eyes as I sentence you to go back in time
To turn the clock backwards; won't coast you a single dime

All the way to days of catching fireflies and carrying lunchboxes
Being scared of monsters in the closet and building fort mattresses

When you made a best friend by sharing your blue crayon – the color of your skin didn't matter
When candy was everything you wanted to buy. And ice-cream was the ultimate answer

When nobody was prettier than mom, and nobody was cooler than dad
When she waited for you when you got home and you sat on his lap; nothing would ever go bad

When rainy days only meant we'll manage to do everything inside the classroom and continue to play
When chicken pox was entertaining, balloons made everything okay and we played with clay

When it was a big deal to go to an amusement park and finally get on the ‘Big Kid’ rides
When goodbye only meant until summer is over and no one left your side

When you sneaked up on your toys because ‘Toy Story’ was real
When you spent each day in the sun and everything was ideal

When mistakes were corrected by exclaiming 'do over' and everybody was a friend
When we all played together as one and there was no pretend

When decisions were made by going eeny-meeny-miney-moe
Never having a clue that we’ll soon say goodbye and it’ll be time to grow...

Those days weren't going to last
Huh... They passed by pretty fast

Days of wearing a blanket on your back thinking you could fly
Of tip-toeing around the house; turning to a spy

Days of wearing your mom's heels and pearls and acting like a queen
Of chasing each other in shopping malls and making a scene

Days of being afraid of the dark and pretending to be sick just to skip school
Of climbing trees, swinging on swings, and following playground rules

Days of bedtime stories and being tucked in bed
Of pretending to be a zombie and playing dead

Days of jump ropes, Nintendo games, and flipping coins to make everything fair
Of Hide & Seek, pillow fights and jumping up and down the stairs

Days of having a recess to run around and scream
Of no race issues; just one team

Days of not caring about what you wore; whether a size two or ten
Of being tired from playing, but we'd sleep only to wake up and play again

Days of ordering happy meals not for the food, but the toy; never worrying about weight
Of 10$ feeling like a million & another extra dollar is a miracle. When ten o’clock was considered late

Days of looking at the stars/clouds and imagining shapes, occupying an entire evening
Of no matter how bad your voice was, you weren't embarrassed to sing

Days of following ants and having a pet bug
Of camping in the backyard, and Barni was your drug

Days of melted chocolate all over our faces and still not caring who was watching
Of ‘Opposite Days’, checking who leaped more steps, "You're it" and racing

Days of cuss words being banned and you didn't have to be compared
Of having innocence and being treated equal. You were once heard

Remember those days?? Or have you forgotten that you weren't born yesterday??

Before having responsibilities and driving cars. Just simple cardboard spaceships, and the privilege to sit in the front seat
Before x-boxes, PlayStation2, or internet browsers. Before you made quick judgments, lied and cheated

Before changing ourselves to impress others and wearing make-up
Covering who we truly are, claiming that we have grown up

Before caring about sexism, classicism, or racism, and letting our ignorant society take over us
Being misled by social media; blinding us from the fact that we’re all the same and making a huge fuss

Before money and popularity controlled and took over - Being mean and acting like jerks because we think it’s cool
Mocking others because they're not the same as us. Abusing people; treating them as a tool…

Before all that… Days of our childhood – How I wish to go back
Enter a time machine and get back to that youth track

But time isn't on our side and we have to leave it all behind eventually
Yet learn from it… Gather that knowledge and better yourself… Childhood days are the cherry on top of this reality.
Jonny Angel Feb 2014
Hand in hand
we strode along the Camino
oblivious to the surrounding world.
Passerbyers could not restrain
their sentiments,
greetings & farewells
escaped lips,
while ours created magic,
locked together,
swirling our tongues,
we tasted soul.

It was our last walk together
and we both knew it.
We had counted stars,
tormented iquanas,
scissored each other
to make goosebumps
& lose sleep.

All of those memories
have stayed intact,
they do not haunt me,
save one.
I remember
watching you wave
from the backseat of the bus
as it drove away,
back into the jungle.

I wished we could
have stayed there
forever, but now,
I keep you with me,
just a crumpled photograph
of your star feet.
L Smida Dec 2012
If I were a guy
Would it make life easier?
I often wonder..
More people would accept me
That's for sure
Because I wouldn't be a sin in people's eyes
I'd be able to flirt with any girl
Not just the gay ones
Because girls date guys
That's the normal thing as the majority goes
I could wear my baggy jeans
And cut off all my hair
And no one would stare at me
It would be normal
I would be normal
I'd fit in
If I were a guy
I wouldn't have to worry about the things I worry about now
I could get married
And have kids
I could just relax
More opportunities would open up
If I were a guy
All the stupid ******* would disappear
No more whispers going by
"Was that a boy or girl?"
And all I can think is
"***.. I'm human. Does my gender really matter that much to you?"
And why?!
Why should it even matter
You should treat me the same regardless
I'm a good person
Just because I'm a girl that dates girls
Doesn't mean you have the right to get up all in my business
So my heads ****** up
Deal with it
Just be glad it isn't happening to you
I mean,
Don't get me wrong
I'm proud to be gay
But some times it's hard
Like when ignorant people say we cant get married because we're the same ***
Now that bothers me
It doesn't make sense whatsoever
Love is love
That's the simple part
Why the hell are there even laws about the same *** not being able to get married in the first place
What's that have to do with anything
Who cares?
Like why is it a big deal
I've never figured it out
The government has much much more important things to do
Why do they waste their time making rules about what gays can and can't do?
People say God is the reason
But **** that
You go and cuss up storms
And say that God is the reason gays can't get married
You go and judge the **** out of every person that walks by
And you say that God is the reason gays can't get married
You go and cheat on your wives or husbands
And say God is the reason gays can't get married
You go and drink till you puke and get angry and beat on people
And you say God is the reason gays can't get married
You go and make all these mistakes
And you say God is the reason gays can't get married.
Like if you're gonna stick with God about that then stick with him for everything else
Don't be a **** and a hypocrite
Seriously, quit making up excuses
Let people live and quit worrying about everyone else
Because honestly you should be more worried about yourself
Anyways...
Who doesn't find girls attractive?
Come on
In all honesty
I don't want to be a guy though
Because that would be contradicting
It might make life easier
But it only leaves me wondering
How different it would be
Better or worse?
My head would probably still be ****** up
And I don't like wieners
And if I had a wiener
I'm not sure how I would feel about it
I'd probably want to have surgery to be a girl
So in all actuality
I don't really have a gender
I don't like being a girl
And I don't want to be a guy
What else is there
God probably didn't know what to make me
So he just went eeny meeny miny moe
And girl is what happened
You should see the differences in how people treat me
I've tested it
I'll dress girly one day
With make up on
And go walk around the mall
Smiling faces look but don't stare
People are nice to me
Polite
They say thanks and excuse me
People open doors for me
Or hold them open for me
But heaven for bid
Someone open a door for me when I have baggy jeans and a hoodie on
All hell would break loose
People don't smile at me
People stare with confused eyes
You can't see my cleavage so you're going to be a ****
Just straight up rude
I do not understand
I DO NOT!!
I don't like how this world works
There are too many stupid rules
There are too many people who **** things up
There are too many things that could be so simple
But too many people make everything more difficult than it should be
I wish things could be more relaxed
Everything is too up tight
Please don't comment.

When people ask me if I'm a boy or girl
I'm just going to start answering "IDK"
Bob B Oct 2016
So MARY loved a little lamb—
Especially on her plate.
But watch out, Mary: too much lamb
Can make you overweight.
 
HUMPTY DUMPTY sat on the wall.
Learn from his mistake.
If you are not mindful, you
Could also fall and break.
 
A TISKET, a TASKET,
Forget about a basket.
Do what you are told
Or your folks will blow a gasket!
 
JACK SPRAT could eat no fat.
Too much fat could **** him.
But mounds of veggies on his plate
Certainly don't thrill him.
If MRS. SPRAT could eat no lean
And just the fatty parts,
Wasn’t her cholesterol level
Jumping off the charts?
 
MISTRESS MARY, quite contrary,
Brags about her garden,
Which, she adds, is quite unique.
****! Oops, beg your pardon.
Are silver bells and cockle shells
Much to brag about?
I guess they are more practical
When there is a drought.
 
JACK B. NIMBLE was pretty slick,
Although he was a nut.
Don’t play around with candlesticks,
Or you could burn your ****.
 
EENY MEENY MINY MOE...
Invest your money and watch it grow.
It’s good to save and not to owe,
EENY MEENY MINY MOE...
 
GEORGIE PORGIE made the girls cry
Every time he kissed ‘em.
They didn’t like that chauvinist
And the way he dissed ‘em.
 
Did JACK AND JILL go up the hill
Really to get water?
What kind of H2O
Would make him swerve and totter?
 
If these days PETER put his wife
In a pumpkin shell,
He'd never hear the end of it;
Boy, she’d give him hell!

- by Bob B
I’m starting to believe that this nomadic lifestyle
Ain’t at all for the faint of heart
Thousands of places in so little time
Exhausted but I can’t stop yet as no one place holds extreme value to me
Footprints in the sand tell a story of where I’ve been
Darkness engulfs me and makes it harder to decide where to begin
Perhaps I should just ‘eeny meeny miny mo’ it
Since stopping isn’t nearly as important
Thoughts clutter my walkway like precious gems covered by a recent sandstorm
Disgruntled, I glance out over my shoulder
Listening for the whisper of the wind to call out to me
But wait… I’m getting a head of myself
That’s dangerous when you’re a nomad
Whatever is waiting around the next bend
A mystery waiting to be unveiled
Like a grieving widow, mourning her sanity
I run
Disjointed from reality
I feel no pain
Opinions stabbing me like shards of glass
Dripping with the blood of identity
I’m a fraud… and yet, on I run
The tears I’ve cried flow through this deserted land like the Nile
It’s ingenious
They nurture my steps
A suckling waiting to be fed
I travel the worn path
night and day day and night
Stopping only to mark my place
I’ve been here before
And I never even left the comfort of my bed
This journey of a thousand steps
Inside my ever restless mind
A B Faniki May 2019
A for Austerity, P for Poverty,
R for Recession, and U for Unemployment.
Recession is in town with her three

Un-amusing friends, whose hands are always
on their lips; and wherever the gang goes
they take away the fun from that place;

tinny Tanana biko biko! Whose car is
unemployment going to take away, to
make him use his leg-dis benz?

Eeny Meeny Miney mo! Whose house is poverty
going to crash in, and undo a
lifetime’s work in a matter of weeks?

tinny Tanana, biko biko! What will austerity
sell to the state? Is it a string for
the ministers to tighten the state purse?

Hear! Hear! Recession is in town. Bad
policies invited her with her three friends
to party and paint the town gray;

shame on the leaders on whose watch the
doors of the state were opened to recession
and her three friends; their ears will

be filled with the wailing and insults of the
populace, like the cry of a widow, whose
only son has passed away, fills the house.
this poem is about what recession does to a nation, it leaders and it people
Jane Tricky May 2013
smoke billows across the open sky
dancing on the horizon of space and time

from a distance the beauty is admired
sitting atop gentling rolling hills

long blades of grasses and petals of wild flowers
the culmination of such always brings a sense of peace

but not today
this will not be the day for any sort of serenity

there is nothing to fear but fear itself
except certain death

looming in the distance
waiting for innocence to be served up on a silver platter

he is coming for you and he is coming for me
dressed in a fancy suit he pretends to be whatever you want

the essence of life that binds us
is also the cascade of our dismay

eeny meeny miney moe
catch the devil by his toe
and if he hollars let him go
but he will be back, this you know

i have yet to hear of anyone walking away from such encounters unscathed
there is a sense of irony to the entire situation, if you ask me

i'm just living to die
what about you?
XIII Sep 2017
Anger
That had you devoured
Due to the guilt
Caused by words made alive by an ink

Beliefs
That you want me to believe
You want to impose
But I have a mind of my own

Pity
That you want me to see
But I'm out of remorse
You've made me worse

Money
That I've given for free
There's no point having it back
I've given it to a beggar

Introduction
That has no more connection
I don't care at all
If you've completed each other's holes

Regret
That you left
My worth
That you overlooked

Forgiveness
That you don't even deserve
Or I don't want to give
Either way, it's a no *****
Now, which is it?
Sometimes when I'm faced
With a decision I freeze, great..
My Lifes taken to sticks it, and sit it,
At a fork In the road, to wait

For my choice, where's fate?
....cuz so far my choices to date
Is why I'm writing this, fighting it,
Knowing in my past I've made

Decisions causing collisions
Man made damnation,damaging
The way only a master of disaster
Can... With a strategy of calamity

A catastrophe, to make an *** of me
Like I compete VS. tragedy
To see who can cause more horror,. &destruction; but no match for me

Is he, as my demolition savagery
Similar to whenever havocs seen
And as it happens. I'm always like
"Yo..What the F$&@ is happening??!"

Clueless like Alicia silverstone
In the library with a wrench
As Cornel mustard calls her *****
And this is where ration ends

And wanders like it saunters off
topic hoping itll delay or help
Fantasies of **** woman come out
Now I'm a Plummer...hired to help

... But eventually, I'm back held
Forced to be an adult, oh why ..
..forced to pick a road or grow old
And hold stagnant, until I die

Which don't sound so bad, but a dad
Always has to consider
And factor in. to weigh the variable,
In the form of his lil diaper *******

Who really could use a baby sitter
Who is ****,so a ....baby sister
Can be made, but ...focus dont stray
This is no time to joke or play

Eeny-meeny miney moe
Catch a politician by its toe
So you can ask advice, then told:
"It's a gd time to relapse on blow"

Which is only said cuz my head
Controls the imagined figment
Which says nothing except that,my
Heads not where sane thoughts visit

So as I stare at the two paths
I feel debilitated and instead
Of perpetual fear, the thoughts fed
Says no matter which way I head

Ill be left to wonder where I'm lead
If I chose the path, which I did not
When I decide and divide I try the path I now continue so do not

think too much. and yet still
Frozen and paralyzed at a halt  
I stand a man, full of fear, a vault
holding a scared boy full of fault

But Self doubt amplifies as adults
At least for me, so immobile I'm left
Confused by why I'm still undecided
But already feel my choices regret ...

.....  I hope I don't fork myself .....
Quentin Briscoe Nov 2013
Thoughts
Maybe my words are not profound enough..
or my skin Ford tough...
But my Heart is something sweet..
and these thoughts are something that can't be beat...
If only I could pull them out..
In a fashion thats not round about...
And put them down evenly...
Maybe they would sound heavenly
Or good enough to catch your ears..
Or maybe bring your eyes to tears..
See the combination is what matters tho..
I just can't say any meeny miney moe..
But my thoughts, if i could just find a flow..
Maybe i could become a pro...
and Speak my thoughts to many lands..
in hopes that they will understand..
I don't write to be difficult...
just in hopes to create a miracle..
So surely soon i will work this out..
And create dreams without a doubt...
To heal souls, minds and hearts
With just the creation of my thoughts..
KM Ramsey May 2015
if words are life
then are all their
permutations
all 77
different words for fear
just shadows
smoke
of memories
which have crawled
out of me
and found a life in the mirror
with its gilded frame
tarnished
with the trail of destruction
bodies
piling up and up and up
towards the sky.

having these shadow creatures
living in the mirror
coming out to play
tic tac toe
eeny meeny miney mo
better let that razor go.

at least i’m never alone
smoke always caresses
my face when
i find myself
living in the mirror too.

a sweet touch
cool yet searing
calculated and wild
silk of broken mirrors.
i am everywhere
Blind Aesthetic Apr 2018
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe
Take your phone and let it go
If it rings you just say no
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe
Technology phones nursery rhyme life future
Tagged bodies are lined up in rooms of twos.
Our head boss decides for us which ones to pursue.
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe...
Only the “one” will this Angel of Mercy bestow worthy.
We pray that it will be you.
Picking up the ounce and the nine
Leaving them elbows behind
I’m shaking bacon
I’m awaken, shift and shaping
all the time
Constantly looking behind
For the pigs all the time
Make a move,
Hot pursuit
Grab my boot and pop a few
gun shots multiple times
Fleeing the Scene of the crime
Cause I’m living out of my mind
That’s your constitution that you're saluting
I intrude before you pollute
Rapidly dropping like rain
Every one of them are the same
Eeny meeny miny moe
Pick one aim and let one go
Duck hunt
The name of the game
Nintendo
John Velasco Jan 2018
At the dinner table

  "Please pass the steak. Oops, forgot to pray
  I'm hungry, what should I say?
  Amen. How was your day?
  I'm hungry, please pass the steak.
  Eeny meeny miny..."

"Dude can you watch your elbows?"

  "Moe... Ah, she looks nice and juicy. Oh that reminds me!
  Gotta tell you, wow, gorgeous girl, I met, day before this
  Cinnamon shoulders, starry eyes, wow..."

"Hurry with the steak!"

  "I got her number, yeah, yeah!"

Ring ring.

  "Total spin-out!
  We met, we laughed
  We bought movie tickets, and popcorn too, of course!
  What a blast!"

  "Wanna come over for dinner tomorrow night?"

Ding ****.

  "Hi! Come in!"

(kiss, kiss)

  "You're so... salivating!
  Better than the steak! Oh, the steak!
  Eeny meeny miny moe… Ah, She's perfect!
  Yum! ALLLLL! Mine!"
this got written x years ago
behoves this update version of a bozo
christened sans parents
   playing eeny meeny miny moe,

yet upon tiring of game with a no
   nonsense attitude
   eventually decided on Not Nada Poe
Whit - Walt har vee gong to call So and So?

Now, you probably wonder and ask
yarself y am.i. On a wishy washy
web site - far tis to bask
in offline and/or online friendship

as like quaffing from a flask
with no deliberate intent
   to antagonize nor mask
n e hidden agenda -
   quite a challenging task.

Thus, i turn the question back 2 u,
per what spurred posting/responding too
and might there be interest
with me - n average hue

man male - hoping
   4 an acquaintance brand new
from - this barred bard -
   scot **** matthew.

Dis ***** older buck haint gonna take a byte
so...no need to take fright
i merrily scout cyber seas donning
me virtual webbed whirled wide wet suit to brook

a female friendship countless
   adult oriented web site
such as ashleymadison, badoo, craigslist, elitemate,
plenty of fish tagged twoo,

or other venue left of the political right
and if absolutely positively unquestioningly
without subatomic particle of interest
than please just respond albeit and try to be polite...

good morning, noon, or night
quite
right
to be guarded when an acquaintanceship
   begins out of sight

whereby data bit bump and grind
   thru the information super
   highway somewhat tight
and bring x rated epistles to life that i write.

Ma arch i bald dingbats of fingas clip by
at greased lightening speed
justa friendship this poor fella doth need
an accommodating gal to offer a lead
mien eyes did not purposely heed

nor any greed
from one suppurating marriage
this guy wants to be freed
with no malice this cheap tricking
   super tramping wordsmith
of inxs ac of dc charged cheap tricks
sans done ***** deed.

This impersonator qua sometime bard of yore
admits to his apology
if ye get taken totally abominable
like bar rammy aback

to proposition ye with carnal desires in store
and ideally match deeds ease with these words
towards such strong desire to adore
forsooth that naked realm

to allow the noggin to bore
together in close syncopation like couplet core
and would now gently encourage
his newfound muse

to let me dip me quill in
   iambic pentameter du jour
a wordsmith who shies away
drinking *** or smoking *****.

Now with a zing
i step into the digital xing
via summit da fall low wing
written jest to byte tongue in cheek
yet unsure if zee phone here will ring

or an unexpected gold plated invitation
after the yodeling ding
in an effort to hear that pleasant
yet discordant musical ka -- ching
for cherished pennies,
   nickels, dimes, nickle back
et cetera from heaven to bring.

Twiddling me fir and twenty black bird
shaped like a green thumb
as me schmart simian Semitic ****
gets comfortably numb

after quaffing
   humongous amount of ***
while downing oral rob hurts
   sesame street pudding

made of pureed plum
unlike jack in the corner
   my luck mooch oh more glum
and despite ****** stubble here
and there a stale crumb
this har dabbler in words haint no ***
only a hard knock er skool alum.

from thee one and only almighty
alfred e. neuman king crusty crab crumb son Rodg
er alias scott matthews - whose words
   intended as playful persiflage

if curious to learn more about me
   emanating from cranial lodge
   unless no auto mat tick interest arises -
   whence this reply u can dodge.
Hannah J Strauss Jun 2019
Tick tack toe
Give him and hand
Call you a ***.

Tick tack toe
Sun-kissed skin?
Nah, fake tan and highlighter glow.

Fee figh foe fum
“I don’t know what he wants!”
*****, are you dumb?

Fee figh foe…run
You’ll never be tight enough
You’re just for fun.

Eeny meeny miney moe
See his scars and tatts?
So just do as you’re told.

Eeny meeny miney…***
*****, you’re cute.
But you’re just a ***.
Bob B Oct 2016
PC
It's very disturbing to hear people say
That they wholeheartedly object
To being forced to weigh their words
And having to be politically correct.

Forgetting the crassness of earlier times,
They want to return to the careless days
When Jews were called horrible things;
When blacks weren't "blacks" and gays weren't "gays";

When Native Americans were called "redskins";
When despicable names were given to our foes,
And children were taught horribly racist
"Eeny, meeny, miny, moes."

People didn't "cheat" you, they "gyped" you;
The Irish and Italians were both called names;
"Eskimo" was a generalized term;
Men referred to women as "dames."

Mute people were "dumb" back then;
Latinos and Asians were called names, too.
It seems that derogatory words
Were seldom if ever considered taboo.

Will decency and respect both
Be tossed out the window? Please say no.
We can't return to the ignorant days
Of racist jokes and slurs and Jim Crow.

Being a considerate human means
Sometimes bearing a heavy load.
Our lack of sensitivity
Can lead us down a dangerous road.

- by Bob B
Carlo C Gomez Apr 2020
Eeny,
Meeny,
Miny,
Moe.

Where'd my
Stimulus check go?
Kimberly Lewis Dec 2018
I don't want to play hide & sneak (boo & peak)
anymore with you.

I don't want to slide up or down your rain barrel
nor open my cellar door (1, 2, 3, 4) anymore
with you.

No more K-I-S-S-I-N-****** for you, doodle dandy.
Don't want your big rock, nor let you eat my candy.

Eeny, meeny, miney, moe. Skin-to-skin, toe-to-toe.
I pick the very best one,
And you are not it.
preservationman Oct 2023
Eeny Meeny Miny Moe
A phrase and let go
Putting one in the know
A pick and choose moment
The start with eeny meeny miny moe
The end in moe
The count
The who
Choosing
Being chose
The person
The winner
eeny meeny miny Monday,
whichever way you say it
or however you like to put it
it's still
one moe day.

Ah,
but today
I may do better than
the man that I was
yesterday.
sandra wyllie Jul 2019
cereal or eggs and toast
dress or pants
prose or verse
do I step on the scale?
what I don’t know won’t hurt
which bill should I pay?
the one with the shut-off notice
there’s more than one of those
eeny, meeny, miny, moe
I wish they all would go – disappear
up or down
how should I wear my hair?
should I do it today
or put it off until tomorrow?
should I wish her happy birthday
we haven’t talked in years?
it would feel awkward to me
people come and go so easily
Should I flip the finger
to the guy who cut me off
or just cuss under my breath
or roll down my window and cuss
to him?
should visit my mother-in-law
again
she’s very old
and who knows when -
should I pick up the ***** on the
way home?
I should really get sober
I’ve been saying that forever
should I summit to another magazine
just to be rejected once more
or bother to visit the local book
store to be placed on the shelf?
should I end this poem
or go on talking to myself?
I have heard people say
that it's their fault
not his fault or her fault
but their fault,

but who is at fault,
him, her, them, their?

eeny meeny
no!
it's them
and it's always them.
well
them had better be rowing the boat
or it's overboard for them
and them
better float or it's adios to
them that don't give a toss
for us.
It's just them, not the Chinese, not the Russians, Not the Americans and not even the Aliens, it's just them...stop pointing fingers!
At times, it seems like I am skillfully navigating my way
through a block of words that could potentially hinder a
conversation, similar to how one would navigate
around the imposing Watch towers on a bustling street.

Dealing with these words becomes a sort of religion
in itself, as they stubbornly cling to their power.
Above all else, these words start to feel as if they
have been suspended in the air, waiting anxiously for
a compliment to grasp onto, like a game of
"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe," where I would willingly cross
boundaries just to capture the attention of a lover; if by her toe.

However, in doing so, our pasts would inevitably
catch up with us, causing us to confront
and let go of numerous things.

Consequently, I have transformed into a different person,
one who has hopefully grown enough to be
dispassionate towards my own individuality.
And if I were to personify my growth, I would become
that very message that I have discovered and now wish
to share with others, spreading the sense of freedom
and my new found deliverance.
cmp Oct 2020
eeny, meeny, miny woe
sacrifice done right recites hypocrisy
sacrifice by the book entwines blind faith
sacrifice in vain discredits repercussion
sacrifice without leverage set fool's errand
anew-woe

— The End —