"nooked" poems
Have you ever milked a goat?
well, I have not
But I've read about it in books
Before this bookish knowledge was bestowed upon me
I had mistaken goat udders for faucets
Imagine my surprise upon opening a book,
to see that the milk must be extracted by hand, by machine
but not once was the handy faucet turned
so I ventured to a goat farm
and there I was mistook
for the most crooked of humans
apparently I had that look
in my humble opinion
I was merely forsook
for the look of a nooked crook
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 8:09 PM UTC
In the great dephts of a collossal anthem
There were ray beams gathered, focused
Beautifully by a magic magnifying glass.
The true meaning of existence was living,
Breathing, focusing on step by steps little
Revelations; non-existing bouquets lit on
Misty meadows glowing in the morning
Dew drops budding on cherry blossoms.
He thought-nevertheless: he's falling into
The infinite abyss of his enticed farenheit
Hell, swirling his brilliant darkish mind to
The point of total absolute white, mingled
With blackness and sweet spectre of love
Profoundly smooched~wickedly nooked.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC