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"nack" poems
He was amazing at being a friend, Would stick by you till the end, Never let you down, Could turn your frown upsidedown, He always had an open hand, He was the best guy in the land, Had a nack for bein great, But his parents sealed his fate, He had an amazing girl, She was the best for him in the world, His parents didnt respect her at all, And so that was the relationships fall, So his mother snapped, And she attacked, But his girl was done with their **** She was so over it, She wanted to be friends instead, And to his parents are we all dead. She bought his sister a 30 dollar cross, And now they snap and the relationship is lost? **** his parents i have a suggestion, Here is my one and only quetion: Do we care what they think at all? Or shall we all like them fall? Should we ignore them? Yes we should, Lets go back to being what we were: a brotherhood, Her furry is being the conduit for it, His parents think they are doing all the right **** We can see the hurt in his eyes, But at least we know he has his pride, If she would get with him, it would settle down, Go to one cook out, and be there i his town, Be in his territory, but dont explode, I think they should kindly invite her to his abode, This is crap, and no matter how hard, forgive and forget, So lets all be friends, and forget all of it.
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May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
My Best Friend
A poet not Perhaps someday I’ll write a rhyme If so inclined and have the time A play on words, a touch of wit Tis true, I have some nack for it Of pace and meter, twisted words Passion, feelings, things I’ve heard But not just now, my soul is old My mind is numb , my muse too cold My thoughts are shallow, as a pond While poets need, an ocean strong And so for now I’ll meditate On poems of friends, I know are great Just a rhymer - Justa Civileon 2003
0
Jan 2, 2010
Jan 2, 2010 at 7:15 AM UTC
A poet not
I Stand firmly with my hands relaxed cause the kid looking down on me just cant FADE me. His eyes smirk with disdain as he rubs against the grain but my years in the realm keep my hands firm at the helm just smirk him right back and now he's feeling wack cause I slipped his attack and the punk can't fade me. See...my body is tough and conditioned. Swift still powerfull and lithe. Six decades see I aint ***** made ....still cool as the shade and makin the grade...I moved in and stayed...aint shaky and the kids cant fade me. Payed those dues early and often.....not boasting. Just love confounding young ducklings snotty  lil fucklings. My mind is quick I pay my dues...use it or lose it...no aint bout to dodder become cannon fodder for rooks with no stripes... talk that **** if I have to. Walk that **** too. Blessed and respectfull. Man I love checkin chickens who get it wrong.My body is my carriage my spirit an amalgam of knowlege and physicality. They try to cubby hole.This old dude dont fit mold. Kick your *** and get witty. Aint fresh of no ***** They shake their heads or feign disdain g But again and again they misread. Down for the de de. Aint no play pretty.Energiser bunny. You cant fade me punk.I might spank your *** like your uncle.....Nephew. Your hands cant hit what your eyes cant see. You cant chump me off play me no dozens. I aint old cause I'm lucky. Plucky. Every dog has his day and one day the magic will end ask Houdini .....   ..... but till then my young friends,this old man's gonna play nick nack on your **** And ya don't stop and ya don't quit. FEEL ME ? Cause ya caint fade me.....Yet.
0
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
un-fade-able
I Stand firmly with my hands relaxed cause the kid looking down on me just cant FADE me. His eyes smirk with disdain as he rubs against the grain but my years in the realm keep my hands firm at the helm just smirk him right back and now he's feeling wack cause I slipped his attack and the punk can't fade me. See...my body is tough and conditioned. Swift still powerfull and lithe. Six decades see I aint ***** made ....still cool as the shade and makin the grade...I moved in and stayed...aint shaky and the kids cant fade me. Payed those dues early and often.....not boasting. Just love confounding young ducklings snotty  lil fucklings. My mind is quick I pay my dues...use it or lose it...no aint bout to dodder become cannon fodder for rooks with no stripes... talk that **** if I have to. Walk that **** too. Blessed and respectfull. Man I love checkin chickens who get it wrong.My body is my carriage my spirit an amalgam of knowlege and physicality. They try to cubby hole.This old dude dont fit mold. Kick your *** and get witty. Aint fresh of no ***** They shake their heads or feign disdain g But again and again they misread. Down for the de de. Aint no play pretty.Energiser bunny. You cant fade me punk.I might spank your *** like your uncle.....Nephew. Your hands cant hit what your eyes cant see. You cant chump me off play me no dozens. I aint old cause I'm lucky. Plucky. Every dog has his day and one day the magic will end ask Houdini .....   ..... but till then my young friends,this old man's gonna play nick nack on your **** And ya don't stop and ya don't quit. FEEL ME ? Cause ya caint fade me.....Yet.
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17
Some things, I do really well. Other things, Eh, not-so-much. Haha But seriously, What the **** man! Can I just live and stay my hand? Branded disbanded He commanded that I be banished. 'Like speaking spanish The linguistics twisted Not nearly gifted enough in language. A soul in anguish All of my control is been vanquished. Heap on the coals and the ashes For my Savior endured the lashes; That my back practiced. have a nack for the static Whack as a pack of crack addicts I attack at the blackness In the back of your hearts little attic I impart cause its holy habit Here is my life You can have it, just grab it! ... Fell into arms of a planet
0
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
Savant
MAc AnD ChEeSe, I lIkE to Eat MaCC NAd CHeSEE WITH my FeLLow, iT mAkE em UrN YEllOw. I lIke IT aS A s nACK, iT mAKes Me wACK.
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 10:02 PM UTC
Mac And Cheese
I am not a voice change my tune I am a choice sounding like the afternoon Kid sitting in the back head down on the desk thinkin about some nick nack I'm not tryin my best ideas are flowin all the other kids chatting the wind outside is blowin their words combating like the old do to the young they just want them to be quiet they just can't stop their tongue all they want to do is riot I exist: kinda like a tree something that wants to be free I just gotta find my need back to the kid he makes a few bids can't find himself he'll end up on the shelf In the end his head is down ideas used to defend all is goin to the ground
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Mar 18, 2012
Mar 18, 2012 at 6:47 AM UTC
The discussion
At ringend on june sixteenth nineteen hundred and four Molly opens her door and Literate Leopold plonks his kosher black pudding into her hand Isn't it grand to be remembered this way? Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children Searching for meat on O'Connel streeet that has the tang of scented ***** The well known literate degenerates long to have their hot-dogs stroked by baaaaaaaaaarnacles whilst sellin' knick-nack Paddywackery of dear old ***** dumpling How do they walk with her sausages and inner organs of beasts and fowls? their shanks ****** dry of whuskey on Denny's big breakfast show Well **** your **** With a flame-grilled samuel becket burger and a side order of oscar wilde fries "warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh. Flesh yeilded amid rumpled clothes. Whites of eyes swooning up. His nostrils arched themselves for prey. Melting breast ointments. Armpits oniony sweat . Fishgluey slime. Feel! Press! Crushed! Sulphur dung of lions Young! Young! In the petri- Pish Pish Pish Dish spitoon culture the illiteraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaati hold a party "I'm a tiny tiny thing Ever flying in the spring Round and round a ringaring Long ago I was king Now I do this kind of thing On the wing, onnnnnnnn the wing!" Bing! Professor Latelate Lateshow Late review Was talking to ME…….. about yew What do yew think of that aesthetic crew? The opal hush poets? The master mystiks? The wanz thit *** to me in the sma' oors o the mournin' tae ask aboot plains o consciousness? They're all Barbers, says he, from the Black Country that would hang their own fathers for five quid down and travelling expenses! In Dublin's fine city Where the wine bars are pretty You can't find an ashtray You must smoke alone. Isn't it grand To be remembered this way Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children?
0
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 7:00 PM UTC
BLOOMSDAY
At ringend on june sixteenth nineteen hundred and four Molly opens her door and Literate Leopold plonks his kosher black pudding into her hand Isn't it grand to be remembered this way? Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children Searching for meat on O'Connel streeet that has the tang of scented ***** The well known literate degenerates long to have their hot-dogs stroked by baaaaaaaaaarnacles whilst sellin' knick-nack Paddywackery of dear old ***** dumpling How do they walk with her sausages and inner organs of beasts and fowls? their shanks ****** dry of whuskey on Denny's big breakfast show Well **** your **** With a flame-grilled samuel becket burger and a side order of oscar wilde fries "warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh. Flesh yeilded amid rumpled clothes. Whites of eyes swooning up. His nostrils arched themselves for prey. Melting breast ointments. Armpits oniony sweat . Fishgluey slime. Feel! Press! Crushed! Sulphur dung of lions Young! Young! In the petri- Pish Pish Pish Dish spitoon culture the illiteraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaati hold a party "I'm a tiny tiny thing Ever flying in the spring Round and round a ringaring Long ago I was king Now I do this kind of thing On the wing, onnnnnnnn the wing!" Bing! Professor Latelate Lateshow Late review Was talking to ME…….. about yew What do yew think of that aesthetic crew? The opal hush poets? The master mystiks? The wanz thit *** to me in the sma' oors o the mournin' tae ask aboot plains o consciousness? They're all Barbers, says he, from the Black Country that would hang their own fathers for five quid down and travelling expenses! In Dublin's fine city Where the wine bars are pretty You can't find an ashtray You must smoke alone. Isn't it grand To be remembered this way Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children?
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62
fee fi fo fum,   I feel ******* dumb   hickory dickory dock  just want the clock to stop  knick nack paddy wack  my life and mind have no slack  where it will stop, no body knows!  my mind always running but I wont let it show!
0
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 11:28 PM UTC
Some Nursery Rhymes
By Arcassin B ♦I know just what your thinking of, You want me to come along in a mental state where I could hardly stand, I can't be that man for you, The more you learn the more you know about me, The more you'll never doubt me, The ship we sail just sounds astounding, In the rivers of the valley, .........Love Me, ♦Just hoping that we could find peace in a better setting such as this one, Don't hide your face from my sight again,... I got a nack, When you react, To kisses up and down your back, You blame me for the sensual tension with that well-known fact.
0
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
Uncover
COLLECTIONS Oh the endless possibilities,all that is or will become within our sight to be touched smelt or felt Personal memorabilia builds into more than recollections ,from buds to blossoming into full blown obsessions Numismatic fancy word for adding another to the pot,dates or weights all pitching towards the wealth Postcards from yonder,seashells to make us wonder,each time feeling more & more obliged to add another to our possessions Many admire a rhyme another note always gets their vote ,passion play often the only way, sounds helping their health Never hear of a person acquiring empty shelves,books will fill any nook ,stacked vertical or leaned horizontal,their words have answered many questions Rag doll & a race car now turned to bunches of Barbies spinning Hot Wheels their true beauty just another notch in the belt Ticking of clocks always keeping time ,some require mere cases, meager to monstrous taking on entire museums Sending a simple letter has now gone postal,finding that rare picture will make their hearts melt Garbles of marbles across from mismatched matchbooks,their appeal is real as we add more pieces Bats & ***** gathering dust,minor leaguers gained no fame ,now junk transformed to memorabilia their distinction now unparalleled Avon calling the scent once a common present,not so old bottles now treated like divas Knick or nack another's brick brack maybe a future adorers prize our simple junk adds some spunk,past brought to present at a glance those many baubles just waiting to be shared. R.C.
0
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 6:46 AM UTC
COLLECTIONS
COLLECTIONS Oh the endless possibilities,all that is or will become within our sight to be touched smelt or felt Personal memorabilia builds into more than recollections ,from buds to blossoming into full blown obsessions Numismatic fancy word for adding another to the pot,dates or weights all pitching towards the wealth Postcards from yonder,seashells to make us wonder,each time feeling more & more obliged to add another to our possessions Many admire a rhyme another note always gets their vote ,passion play often the only way, sounds helping their health Never hear of a person acquiring empty shelves,books will fill any nook ,stacked vertical or leaned horizontal,their words have answered many questions Rag doll & a race car now turned to bunches of Barbies spinning Hot Wheels their true beauty just another notch in the belt Ticking of clocks always keeping time ,some require mere cases, meager to monstrous taking on entire museums Sending a simple letter has now gone postal,finding that rare picture will make their hearts melt Garbles of marbles across from mismatched matchbooks,their appeal is real as we add more pieces Bats & ***** gathering dust,minor leaguers gained no fame ,now junk transformed to memorabilia their distinction now unparalleled Avon calling the scent once a common present,not so old bottles now treated like divas Knick or nack another's brick brack maybe a future adorers prize our simple junk adds some spunk,past brought to present at a glance those many baubles just waiting to be shared. R.C.
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18