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"mongols" poems
Yes, it's seemingly a nonsensical rhetorical question, but, for that precise reason, it will illustrate a lesson, if you so desire to tag along for this short session. Per Wikipedia, "The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to the taxonomic family Equidae." Hmmm... I much prefer that the horse goes "Nay," eats hay, has a mane, and is ridden by cowboys, cowgirls, Indians, equestrians, knights, jockeys, conquistadors, Mongols, and all. Even better, just point a horse out or otherwise show a picture to a kid and they will never be mistaken again. Even the littlest ones will never be stumped when faced with a rhino, tiger, giraffe, camel, and such. Admittedly, there is a worry that we could be fooled with that of a donkey or mule. How come no one has taken advantage of this?! What a scam to get us rich! "Duh doy," you say, cause we all know when we see a horse, so why would anyone try to trick us with an *** Well I ask you in turn, why does anyone try to trick us with good art versus bad, let alone art versus crap? How could anyone fall for that?!
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Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC
Rhetorical Question: What is a horse?
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
the Mongols are coming! / scenes from Warsaw
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
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111
every time i travel to Warsaw i fall in love, i stand on the central Warsaw train-station, and there's this girl checking her mobile interet, phone, and she looks pretty... and... i really don't want to **** her like the guys **** her in ***** movies... maybe that''s shy i'm considered "effeminate".... maybe...                   i just didn't **** enough women... or maybe... i speak the tongue of the crusaders... but we sent the artillery... the beautiful women to the Arab ******             and kept the nation safe... Islam, akin to the comparison of the Bubonic Plague... Islam... virus of the mind...     i'll contest thi... i'll ******* die for this... i've been feeling weird for the past few days.... Tom Petty died....   so... why would anyone give a **** if Wayne Static does the coffer?    so... i'm supposed to care?! **** you! Jeff hanneman died... but do you see me, making a case for a ******* parade?! no? good... that's how i like it... ******* south London plonker! every single time... i fall in love with a girl at the central train-station in Warsaw... the love dies a sudden death... when i get to the.... Western train station of Warsaw...   the Ukrainians et al... the Mongols...              love's up, dead, long gone...                          i'm basically living the enterprise in re-experiencing a slow death...     feral lands...   these Polacks are like... please don't land in Warsaw.... i know... Krakow has Auschwitz as a tourist destination... but... but... you will not see the generic schematic of globalization... every time i travel to Warsaw i fall in love, and then i think of "it"... **** marriage..                no thanks, you have it covered...                                            on your way; i might not be on the winning side, but sure as **** i'm also not on the losing side either... and t think... that i could even concise my life within the confines of imitating my father...    i could have...                    but then... life... isn't exactly a chance on bet within the confines of a roulette.
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Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC
every time i travel to Warsaw i fall in love
every time i travel to Warsaw i fall in love, i stand on the central Warsaw train-station, and there's this girl checking her mobile interet, phone, and she looks pretty... and... i really don't want to **** her like the guys **** her in ***** movies... maybe that''s shy i'm considered "effeminate".... maybe...                   i just didn't **** enough women... or maybe... i speak the tongue of the crusaders... but we sent the artillery... the beautiful women to the Arab ******             and kept the nation safe... Islam, akin to the comparison of the Bubonic Plague... Islam... virus of the mind...     i'll contest thi... i'll ******* die for this... i've been feeling weird for the past few days.... Tom Petty died....   so... why would anyone give a **** if Wayne Static does the coffer?    so... i'm supposed to care?! **** you! Jeff hanneman died... but do you see me, making a case for a ******* parade?! no? good... that's how i like it... ******* south London plonker! every single time... i fall in love with a girl at the central train-station in Warsaw... the love dies a sudden death... when i get to the.... Western train station of Warsaw...   the Ukrainians et al... the Mongols...              love's up, dead, long gone...                          i'm basically living the enterprise in re-experiencing a slow death...     feral lands...   these Polacks are like... please don't land in Warsaw.... i know... Krakow has Auschwitz as a tourist destination... but... but... you will not see the generic schematic of globalization... every time i travel to Warsaw i fall in love, and then i think of "it"... **** marriage..                no thanks, you have it covered...                                            on your way; i might not be on the winning side, but sure as **** i'm also not on the losing side either... and t think... that i could even concise my life within the confines of imitating my father...    i could have...                    but then... life... isn't exactly a chance on bet within the confines of a roulette.
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76
i like the communism acknowledged by ants and terminites, but that brothel bit where we plagiarise lions just to get islam? **** that, let’s try again, and again, and again... until the rhytms of the labrador and the tricep conincide with a society worth living in, the utopia of my grandfather i wished i lived in only compensated by achilles and hercules... imagine! only by achilles and hercules! only by achilles and hercules! hell with you! hell with you for stealing that from me and giving me the antionette john paul ii... that gave me a statue and not a job - endearing as the entering applause, hell with you, discarded western of the jeans... i'd go back to ukraine had i claimed justice in a society that divided me to make justice unclaimed and literature for worth of being unclaimed... had such society existed... the mongols would have conquered it by simply yawning / as opposed to mustard stink / what? west's the best daddy's girl hello boy dylan **** jim morrison? you're ahead of yourself in the electra complication with the decided cold war no.2 originating with the kalashnikov & katyusha in pseudo-ottoman hands; hell with you! stay middle class and un-fuckable!
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 8:37 PM UTC
the antoinette
He had their attention, He always did, The whole nation looking at him, Every one focused, Waiting... Waiting for the great Khan to speak. He scanned the crowd, Masses of people going on for miles, These were the Mongols, The wolves, And he was their leader, Their lord. " My people, the moment has come, For everyone of us to go to battle, And be glorious! For as long as there are a million enemy's, We shall fight a million times, And be victorious!" This year would be a good year, He could feel it, The crowd whooped and cheered, Chanting their lord khan's name, Genghis... Genghis... Genghis...
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Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 10:39 AM UTC
The Great Khan
Sonnet: The Ruins of Balaclava by Adam Mickiewicz (1798-1855) loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Oh, barren Crimean land, these dreary shades of castles―once your indisputable pride― are now where ghostly owls and lizards hide as blackguards arm themselves for nightly raids. Carved into marble, regal boasts were made! Brave words on burnished armor, gilt-applied! Now shattered splendors long since cast aside beside the dead here also brokenly laid. The ancient Greeks set shimmering marble here. The Romans drove wild Mongol hordes to flight. The Mussulman prayed eastward, day and night. Now owls and dark-winged vultures watch and leer as strange black banners, flapping overhead, mark where the past piles high its nameless dead. Adam Bernard Mickiewicz (1798-1855) is widely regarded as Poland’s greatest poet and as the national poet of Poland, Lithuania and Belarus. He was also a dramatist, essayist, publicist, translator, professor and political activist. As a principal figure in Polish Romanticism, Mickiewicz has been compared to Byron and Goethe. Keywords/Tags: Mickiewicz, Poland, Polish, Balaclava, Crimea, war, warfare, castle, castles, knight, knights, armor, Greeks, Rome, Romans, Mongols, Mussulman, Muslims, death, destruction, ruin, ruins, romantic, romanticism, sonnet, depression, sorrow, grave, violence, mrbtr
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Jun 13, 2020
Jun 13, 2020 at 8:56 PM UTC
Adam Mickiewicz "The Ruins of Balaclava" translation
When it rains, it pours; A downpour less frequently wet, sure Dancing a shambling, ill-dressed manticore Who has barely the strength to shake anymore Find the only chagrin of the forecast is yours But you bring some fine wine, a handle of Dewar’s Your mind ascending from improbable sewers Searing tomatoes, aged beef on skewers Burned-off or absorbed during barhopping tours With whom you lounged on Mediterranean shores In your history head: Mongols, Turkmen, and Moors It hits you again ‘til another drink floors you Sleep on a sofa where bad weather ignores you And somewhere inside a girl asks, “From who Comes a voice (yours) at night ambling the halls?” The friendliest ghost, not haunting at all Who’ll likely come by if you give him the call But leave in the morning before sunlight is tall Out of fear of breaking some protocol Despite this, you’ve certainly seen so They keep you around as part of this scene, so This is your life, just how it should be, so Thank you my dears, my beloved Piso
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Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 4:33 PM UTC
Between a Couch and a Hard Place
i don't have a low self-esteem, or precursors to justify usage of internet paraphernalia; i don't have a phone, i don't use dating applications; if anything i'm looking at the hurts of globalisation from a village perspective; and to me, it all just looks like: cow took a **** cow didn't take a **** cow bowed on all fours to sleeps to keep a patchwork of grass dry from the rain... cow slept standing... back then you just had to walk to the next village to ***** in the gene pool... now you're expected to travel to paris for genetic diversity and a love story worthy of the boredom of writing hunting the digression of dating: is monday the 12th of July good for you and the imaginary caveman? no? i thought so... watching rain in England in sunglasses kinda precursors naturalised use of sarcasm, given the Great Wall of China and Hadrian's: an army of Scots just jumped the wall like 110m hurdle sprinters! what we to do?! what we to do?! wait for the Mongols... ah ha.. all in all.. good luck and *cheerio(h)! ol' chap! bowler hats ahoy! bop bop... like bloated frogs bopping along to Sherlock looking at an aquatic snail trail deciphering Cluedo.*
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May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 3:14 PM UTC
cows and globalisation
i'll be the one fattening the nationalists like they're worthy to inherit the swine skidding kinds of talk of the famous winged Hussar toppling mountain in stone as in grain of sand: avalanche - and akin to a crows' kraken bellowing: gluttonous kra! und tod! schatten överskuggar död: and what yearn be dripped in acknowledged European - loftier thought than done, kindred of what's called the civilised / colonial world - toward the auburn horizontal - and in due bereaving: left undone, and unduly asked for: to be grasped as worshipped, quasi Lutheran, mingling Calvinist and Catholic... but never the love affair of Henry VIII. so much of modern English history is bound to Las Vegas, and so much to the Hajj toward Jerusalem no one cares about... then so few to mind the invasion of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth by the Swedes... because this is England, and Cockney speaks, usurper of the royal tongue, due to pride, due to the elephant man, due to jack the ripper and harry the stinker... and the joyous rhapsody coming from the lonely mile in Irish slang; or said: Mamelukes - because the Mongols were at one point defeated - and thus grieved the Baghdad skull with tinges of Hamlet - oh the grand library, what was left of it, could remain enshrined in Texan avoidance - not to be: Chilcot Coke - Cooled Coca and later Koala - Bruise and White - thugs' select - later respect'ah - bony g and later bonbon and much later bony m - and much much later Alfonso Jalfrezi - alias gaga: and all the culinary sagas, the Forsytes of Malta... or the Forsytes of Málaga? i'm sure that question is all about: wherever the peppercorn blows and wherever the sneeze deposits a hunch toward an itchy cartilage - from an itch and a scratch: a butterfly! well, isn't this the most beautiful of all possible worlds... sorta makes you want to get up in the morning and say good-morning to someone.
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Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 9:58 PM UTC
schatten överskuggar död
i'll be the one fattening the nationalists like they're worthy to inherit the swine skidding kinds of talk of the famous winged Hussar toppling mountain in stone as in grain of sand: avalanche - and akin to a crows' kraken bellowing: gluttonous kra! und tod! schatten överskuggar död: and what yearn be dripped in acknowledged European - loftier thought than done, kindred of what's called the civilised / colonial world - toward the auburn horizontal - and in due bereaving: left undone, and unduly asked for: to be grasped as worshipped, quasi Lutheran, mingling Calvinist and Catholic... but never the love affair of Henry VIII. so much of modern English history is bound to Las Vegas, and so much to the Hajj toward Jerusalem no one cares about... then so few to mind the invasion of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth by the Swedes... because this is England, and Cockney speaks, usurper of the royal tongue, due to pride, due to the elephant man, due to jack the ripper and harry the stinker... and the joyous rhapsody coming from the lonely mile in Irish slang; or said: Mamelukes - because the Mongols were at one point defeated - and thus grieved the Baghdad skull with tinges of Hamlet - oh the grand library, what was left of it, could remain enshrined in Texan avoidance - not to be: Chilcot Coke - Cooled Coca and later Koala - Bruise and White - thugs' select - later respect'ah - bony g and later bonbon and much later bony m - and much much later Alfonso Jalfrezi - alias gaga: and all the culinary sagas, the Forsytes of Malta... or the Forsytes of Málaga? i'm sure that question is all about: wherever the peppercorn blows and wherever the sneeze deposits a hunch toward an itchy cartilage - from an itch and a scratch: a butterfly! well, isn't this the most beautiful of all possible worlds... sorta makes you want to get up in the morning and say good-morning to someone.
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how easily an infantile and innocent a tourist attraction can gain momentum of an iceberg process of revealing unsaid yet easily thought out things. i'm like a jan matejko harlequin - the stańczyk gloomed over the loss of smoleńsk, the stańczyk - as if a mongolian presence - the lajkonik of st. mary's noon trumpet call where a mongolian arrow pierced the musician's throat... a big ben of the east a radio reprimand of beep beep beep... weeping over england in the night sitting on a wooden stump with sunglasses... oh woe... oh woe! may my heart serve as both sword and shield, O england! i am but like the matejko harlequin (the stańczyk), i am but the memory of mongols in europe (the lajkonik)... may i simply record the fates of nations, and merely acknowledge my own dearly departed wishing a return to and severing friendships grasped in this my so called home lost; why the abortion of my thought to reclaim high school education in a home without allowable citizenship, and why my necessitating to keep the homage tongue of birth usable on the ready... half of europe disappeared with post-colonialism and lack of empire building! so bloodied and monochromatic! oh but i had nothing to do with it, i simply woke into this nightmare! now i'm accused for transgressing social rubrics!
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Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
stańczyk / lajkonik
i met a mongol once in amsterdam, we exchanged a tearful stare and said a melancholic hello, as if we were to be brother in cement or sandstone of what the sun rememebred and man forgot but nonetheless carved for enshadowed suave of the shadowing hand on hand upon handed down remnant of the handless kanji... the motherless thus tongueless river of sight utilising hand and hand as sophistication of spying thanks to the hands’ shadows: thus no shadow tongue unless that shadow be thought or the abstract off thought: pre-meditation and the subsequent minded courtsey as requested of the blank page or the buddha’s slitted eyes faking intoxication by western standards of that green plant the mongols despise: and western societies fare to tax and thus exploit. and it would be easiest to withhold making talks with the slavs by compensation of the northern-most mosque being established as true progression... but then having insulated the slavs who are "primarily" plumbers and electricians to make any dent in the politics of the other monotheists... where the european excludes the european from europe there you will see war as encouraging the asian or the arab... there you will see war, should a european exclude european from europe there you will see war caucausian againts the rooster against the morn! TAR TAR! TAR TAR! TAR! TAR! (in japanese tora tora tora!) because you did not cherish our shared values thus become devalued therefore value your integral anti-economic evaluations that have no place in my land but concern of keeping brown in the noun and not in the verb of racism and sun; i've become a barabbas among you, you messiahs, you messiah selfies and messiah implants, what gave you the jews scorned has given me you as the "jews" scorned in your disorientation of the fathomed atom bomb already spoken of in the book of the apocalypse.... but a man ejecting an european from europe to fantacise a non-invoked colonialism will halve in carving this world in half for multi-cultarism! no pole ever spoke of colonialism to see you speak of post-colonial re-colonialisation of remote areas so ardently cared for: conquer... and subsequently fall: your sons the additive bullets: я и pоссия demand: the caucaucus tribes to fake unity with the danube fools of erected bohemia.
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Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 11:35 PM UTC
TATAR! TATAR! TA! TAR!
i met a mongol once in amsterdam, we exchanged a tearful stare and said a melancholic hello, as if we were to be brother in cement or sandstone of what the sun rememebred and man forgot but nonetheless carved for enshadowed suave of the shadowing hand on hand upon handed down remnant of the handless kanji... the motherless thus tongueless river of sight utilising hand and hand as sophistication of spying thanks to the hands’ shadows: thus no shadow tongue unless that shadow be thought or the abstract off thought: pre-meditation and the subsequent minded courtsey as requested of the blank page or the buddha’s slitted eyes faking intoxication by western standards of that green plant the mongols despise: and western societies fare to tax and thus exploit. and it would be easiest to withhold making talks with the slavs by compensation of the northern-most mosque being established as true progression... but then having insulated the slavs who are "primarily" plumbers and electricians to make any dent in the politics of the other monotheists... where the european excludes the european from europe there you will see war as encouraging the asian or the arab... there you will see war, should a european exclude european from europe there you will see war caucausian againts the rooster against the morn! TAR TAR! TAR TAR! TAR! TAR! (in japanese tora tora tora!) because you did not cherish our shared values thus become devalued therefore value your integral anti-economic evaluations that have no place in my land but concern of keeping brown in the noun and not in the verb of racism and sun; i've become a barabbas among you, you messiahs, you messiah selfies and messiah implants, what gave you the jews scorned has given me you as the "jews" scorned in your disorientation of the fathomed atom bomb already spoken of in the book of the apocalypse.... but a man ejecting an european from europe to fantacise a non-invoked colonialism will halve in carving this world in half for multi-cultarism! no pole ever spoke of colonialism to see you speak of post-colonial re-colonialisation of remote areas so ardently cared for: conquer... and subsequently fall: your sons the additive bullets: я и pоссия demand: the caucaucus tribes to fake unity with the danube fools of erected bohemia.
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37
A nation is not of land nor borders, nor people Israel dispersed and vanished, Jews remain Mongols destroyed, yet the land is Ishmael's Once there were seventy nations, today only one
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Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 10:14 AM UTC
Nations
hey, i’m not the one getting my morality faked by tourism, or faking being polish because i found the location of the maldives to be east of las vegas... but i guess the roulette does care for the choir you’ll echo when the echo is necessary, and the bagel will suddenl say through it’s fake bun-button: those holocaut jews were really in ownership of british passports... we are representative of their martyrdom... i guess one could claim a denial of poland some other way... denying poland the holocaust because the jews suddenly became mr. polanksi jr. could be accepted... but then i democratically veto a disrespect of the bagel... end of! well dough dough, aren’t we all wooed into sinking england by due course affiliating a secure future. *no wonder in the ***** of death and you in paradise hinge on taking me back to take a g.c.s.e. lesson in history! evens oddly the odds. how about we revise geography? no? ah.. oh well... we can learn something new of a palestianian polity in your agenda in a year or two; oh don’t worry... no new mozart will convert you or give you trouble to say the least; please please... we can hibernate the russians into death in order to make the americans fully aware... we can do that... and roll one of those grand cigars for the 51st star we’ve all been waiting for, ha ha. oh **** you’re right... freedom of speech... securing the nazis retired in argentina was a falkland right that got england engaged.* oh but you didn’t provide me with a safety of being ethically proud, or being nationally proud... instead you told me to be globally proud... and what’s that? the laughter surrounding copernicus?! no one laughed at the mongols... but everyone could laugh and execute galilieo... where does that leave me... in a society of ***** if it doesn’t... do i look like a **** oh but i do look like a **** you laugh at ****** i guess i am a ******* **** after all: totenkopf zu die ende; but you pride it so much... it’s called teen mom tv... even though it broadcasts on a channel that should have music on it!
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 9:29 PM UTC
totenkopf zu die ende zu die anfang
hey, i’m not the one getting my morality faked by tourism, or faking being polish because i found the location of the maldives to be east of las vegas... but i guess the roulette does care for the choir you’ll echo when the echo is necessary, and the bagel will suddenl say through it’s fake bun-button: those holocaut jews were really in ownership of british passports... we are representative of their martyrdom... i guess one could claim a denial of poland some other way... denying poland the holocaust because the jews suddenly became mr. polanksi jr. could be accepted... but then i democratically veto a disrespect of the bagel... end of! well dough dough, aren’t we all wooed into sinking england by due course affiliating a secure future. *no wonder in the ***** of death and you in paradise hinge on taking me back to take a g.c.s.e. lesson in history! evens oddly the odds. how about we revise geography? no? ah.. oh well... we can learn something new of a palestianian polity in your agenda in a year or two; oh don’t worry... no new mozart will convert you or give you trouble to say the least; please please... we can hibernate the russians into death in order to make the americans fully aware... we can do that... and roll one of those grand cigars for the 51st star we’ve all been waiting for, ha ha. oh **** you’re right... freedom of speech... securing the nazis retired in argentina was a falkland right that got england engaged.* oh but you didn’t provide me with a safety of being ethically proud, or being nationally proud... instead you told me to be globally proud... and what’s that? the laughter surrounding copernicus?! no one laughed at the mongols... but everyone could laugh and execute galilieo... where does that leave me... in a society of ***** if it doesn’t... do i look like a **** oh but i do look like a **** you laugh at ****** i guess i am a ******* **** after all: totenkopf zu die ende; but you pride it so much... it’s called teen mom tv... even though it broadcasts on a channel that should have music on it!
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*when i was in St. Petersburg i must have picked up a Rasputin virus, a Siberian gnat bite... **** you not; the only misery i have is that my counterfeiting assailants were, at best, middle class, and not aristocratic.* no, honestly, after reading the style magazine with all its smooch bravado of resentment and care... i hash-tagged myself: yep it's trending... i've just about finished a 70cl bottle of whiskey ******* around with Dylan Thomas and St. George... draco ex cymru. but still it hits me, encoding sounds was never so hard... those clouds of sunset look so much better and multi-coloured when they do with sunglasses... i don't know what's in these sunglasses but i'm picking out pinks and purples... which i can't make out without the sunglasses... an L.S.D. trip or what? i wrote this faster than you'll read it, given the skim- aspect of literature, immediate journalistic recycling... they still love Shakespeare, don't know why, don't ask me why, it's an affair of the english education system... well... ploy... conspiracies are welcome posthumously and adequate intellectual material.... was it Marlowe or John Dee the Elizabethan era double O 7 alchemist to blame? never seen oxygen paired up like that! must be a crucifix miracle! desecrate christ subsequently desecrate all remnants of royal authority, **** into the crown of the governor of Liechtenstein: what? i need the loo! the idea of you teaching me manners is like you teaching me Hadrian's is synonymous with qin shi Huang's rattle; rattle meaning the broken spines of the bricklayers who levelled the ground around them with cement... and still the Mongol horde came! Scots looked at Hadrian's accomplishment and laughed drunk with a lullaby. the Mongols stretched their tongues saying: if Europe and Iraq to be ours, we have to climb that, no arrow will crumble it even if shot at the cracks! i love walls, esp. if they're like Malbork castle of red brick... once owned by Teutonic knights... i end up playing abstract chess with their brickwork, a strange arithmetic... girlfriend? what for? have you heard of the aces movement?
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Marlowe and Dee and 70cl
*when i was in St. Petersburg i must have picked up a Rasputin virus, a Siberian gnat bite... **** you not; the only misery i have is that my counterfeiting assailants were, at best, middle class, and not aristocratic.* no, honestly, after reading the style magazine with all its smooch bravado of resentment and care... i hash-tagged myself: yep it's trending... i've just about finished a 70cl bottle of whiskey ******* around with Dylan Thomas and St. George... draco ex cymru. but still it hits me, encoding sounds was never so hard... those clouds of sunset look so much better and multi-coloured when they do with sunglasses... i don't know what's in these sunglasses but i'm picking out pinks and purples... which i can't make out without the sunglasses... an L.S.D. trip or what? i wrote this faster than you'll read it, given the skim- aspect of literature, immediate journalistic recycling... they still love Shakespeare, don't know why, don't ask me why, it's an affair of the english education system... well... ploy... conspiracies are welcome posthumously and adequate intellectual material.... was it Marlowe or John Dee the Elizabethan era double O 7 alchemist to blame? never seen oxygen paired up like that! must be a crucifix miracle! desecrate christ subsequently desecrate all remnants of royal authority, **** into the crown of the governor of Liechtenstein: what? i need the loo! the idea of you teaching me manners is like you teaching me Hadrian's is synonymous with qin shi Huang's rattle; rattle meaning the broken spines of the bricklayers who levelled the ground around them with cement... and still the Mongol horde came! Scots looked at Hadrian's accomplishment and laughed drunk with a lullaby. the Mongols stretched their tongues saying: if Europe and Iraq to be ours, we have to climb that, no arrow will crumble it even if shot at the cracks! i love walls, esp. if they're like Malbork castle of red brick... once owned by Teutonic knights... i end up playing abstract chess with their brickwork, a strange arithmetic... girlfriend? what for? have you heard of the aces movement?
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Welcome to our society We accept and love everyone Come as you are! Just make sure you dress the way we want you to And listen to the music we want you to And act the way we want you to And think the things we want you to And live the life we say... Also, we're going to shove you into a hellhole known as school where we force you to learn things like trigonometry and why Mongols stole people's lands but not things like: How to pay taxes Or support your family Keep from being taken advantage of Or how to be accepted in a society that only wants a twisted idea of perfection. And while forcing you to conform to the same thing as everyone else, they will "encourage" individuality. But like we said, be yourself! We accept all!
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Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
Society
I knew a biker chick once. She was as tough as nails. Her name was Jenny, but she went by the moniker "Brass ***** Lady." She had tracks up and down each arm from a past life. A broken heart tattoo was etched on both hands. She carried a switchblade, had a set of initialed knuckles. She wore a tie dye bandana. Her vocabulary was not elegant. **** and bitchin' were her two favorite expressions. She had a chained snakeskin wallet attached to her black leather belt. You could see a faint lovelight in her hazy-eyes... but like I said, it was faint. It was the brotherhood, those crazy ******* Mongols who took her under their wings and brought her back to the land of the living. I'm glad she was my friend, 'cause those guys were nasty enemies to have. And anybody who was an amigo of Jenny's was in like Flynn. I loved Brass ***** Lady, she gave me their colors & nobody ever ****** with me either.
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Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
Jenny a.k.a. Brass ***** Lady
The Mongols swept down from the North across the Persian plains They massacred those who did not flee and left their homes in flames. The libraries that heretofore were Persia's pride and joy Were valueless as plunder to the rapacious Golden Horde. So that is why the buildings burned and the rivers turned to black as priceless volumes bled to death discarded in the Horde's attack. A learned culture was destroyed and never made it back in the land that is a crossroads and which is now known as Iraq.
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 2:47 PM UTC
The triumph of Ignorance
your sexuality doesn’t really work higher north than newcastle, or encompasses two seasons past the month of april with that moon of aries rather than that moon of taurus; you see! you see! inherent in us the call of valhalla... the call of the battle... with resurrected beasts... we’ll have none of the *********** given name as reward in our wake; may my eyes thus reside on the horizon - worthy of a resting place that’s abundant       with colours of no known spring in the living man expressed: thus be my body the verily maximed will of nobody expressed to such commotion as a genghis khan allowance might allow - thus all pakistanis be dubbed the southern mongols - thus i say without retraction - may my words be mythical if they cannot be marred come three generation's spawn... i'll still exact the same embodiment governing the missed paragraph thus expressed in what can only remind the universal man of chorus; my tongue the ukulele? perhaps. prior to i spoke of valhalla... it might have sounded like haiwaii to be honest... resurrected beasts giving honour to the shielded sword... it could have been that minded but quickly discarded, or it could have been quiet simply a soap opera concerning shakespeare.
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Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC
for an english rose
*gingers in the hay, likewise gingers in the scoop of what's to be worth the last, remaining quote of queen sheeba... copper skinned peoples she said, copper skinned to be the remnant of all other; i'll see you in siberia,                  with the mongols.* just the per se   lemma; bed looks comfy,     best i sit my *** on it, prior to some other philander of affection,   or the camouflage, stripes, guessing at: harvest ready wheat?!      i'm pretty sure i can merge into mahogany furniture; and take the down-syndrome orangutan with me, while i'm at it.
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Aug 8, 2017
Aug 8, 2017 at 11:17 PM UTC
sherekhan bonsai mainecoon quarus
I wonder what the rabbit sees when she passes through my backyard garden. Catholic eyes that have canonized nature’s wild mane of vulcan brush and misty rain does she think my sunflowers are just as beautiful? and the rolling prairies of my domesticated bend of the turnpike are they just like the valleys she has foraged through, beside the shivering streams and creepycrawling things, I wonder if my nature is enough for her own is the ant hill in my backyard garden still sweet as the labor of the mountainspine makes you sweat, admire the dappled blueberries and dark deer droppings side by side, I once ate the deer’s own by accident and I couldn’t tell the difference but she is still just a rabbit and has only seen the grocer’s slivered aisle of the world, she hasn’t heard the wolf cry to the violette moon (god’s own thumbnail, mama used to say), or smelled the dogwood in April heard the mourning-song of the morning humpback while the plowman’s humble dinner stays salted by his moiled earthsoiled toilsweat cried in the summershine of noontime Arizona rising and laughed into the Amazon’s hair stood tall on the moors, stood tall and faced the edge of the world kicked up the fertile dust of the African enterprise or powdered her frosted nose alongside crystalline Mongols, no she is just a rabbit, and I want to tell her all the secrets Gaea has yet to murmur, low but she is just a rabbit, and she sees my backyard garden this wide world and that is enough, for her own
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Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC
the rabbit
I wonder what the rabbit sees when she passes through my backyard garden. Catholic eyes that have canonized nature’s wild mane of vulcan brush and misty rain does she think my sunflowers are just as beautiful? and the rolling prairies of my domesticated bend of the turnpike are they just like the valleys she has foraged through, beside the shivering streams and creepycrawling things, I wonder if my nature is enough for her own is the ant hill in my backyard garden still sweet as the labor of the mountainspine makes you sweat, admire the dappled blueberries and dark deer droppings side by side, I once ate the deer’s own by accident and I couldn’t tell the difference but she is still just a rabbit and has only seen the grocer’s slivered aisle of the world, she hasn’t heard the wolf cry to the violette moon (god’s own thumbnail, mama used to say), or smelled the dogwood in April heard the mourning-song of the morning humpback while the plowman’s humble dinner stays salted by his moiled earthsoiled toilsweat cried in the summershine of noontime Arizona rising and laughed into the Amazon’s hair stood tall on the moors, stood tall and faced the edge of the world kicked up the fertile dust of the African enterprise or powdered her frosted nose alongside crystalline Mongols, no she is just a rabbit, and I want to tell her all the secrets Gaea has yet to murmur, low but she is just a rabbit, and she sees my backyard garden this wide world and that is enough, for her own
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