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Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.the English pronounce the Cornish town's name as: nookie... the **** is it, a Green Day album name, or a Limp Bizkit song? perhaps i'm too French in my pronunciation... quail... eggs... quay... qua-a... if i were Welsh i'd write you the name like so... newyddquaa... but no... but no, has to be nookie... like buggering a ******* chimp... quail eggs... see how language becomes mutated? nothing is apparently, certainly, stable... always the permutation of a flux... i must have ingested a little of the French concept of: je ne sais quoi when learning English... come one... nouveaucarrière: new quarry... nouveauquai... nookie?! seriously?! Q, Q... Quail eggs... quay... new... quay... maybe the usage of hyphenating words into compounds needs to be revised in the english sprechen... ******* mutation... nookie... ****** ******, + a ******* wookie, walking carpet ride worth the name Chew-a-Buck-back-up! i'd settle for: new-key... some sort of variant of a maritime honing device for locating ships sending distress signals during storms... but... no... but hey... it's authentically Welsh territory... Cornwall is, after all... a pre modern extension of Wales... nookie this: shotgun my *** while is spew rhetoric concerning the health benefits of applying feces instead of ****** cream for the benefits of: no one.

over 20 years spent living on these isles,
and i never made the connection -
Welsh nationalism could only work
if you included Cornwall -
   given that Cornish is very much:
a southern dialect of Çymru -

    i guess... i'm not sure...
    let's put it to the etymological filter...
beginning with primary words:

black
           du   (Cornish)
      du   (Çymru)

    red
       rudh (Cornish)
      coch (Çymru)

    white
          gwydn (Cornish)
gwyn (Çymru)
      
        i guess that's how etymology works,
a shared origins story...
etymology is best
  examined with primary words,
basic nouns / adjectives...

that was the adjective test...
now for the noun test:

sun
          howl (Cornish)
  haul (Çymru)
      
  moon
   loor (Cornish)
    lloer (Çymru)...

    sky
               ebron (Cornish)
   awyr (Çymru) -
   ah...
      now we see what becomes from
etymological deviation...
the sky has to have more
inherent connotations
of a religiosity as the resting place
of sort...

i'm sure that sea, earth, water,
and fire, are very much akin
or mountain...
but i could be wrong...

sea
    mor (Cornish)
  môr (Çymru)
        
earth
    dor (Cornish)
   ddaear (Çymru)

   water
         dowr (Cornish)
      *dŵr
(Çymru)

fire
          tan (Cornish)
    tân (Çymru)

mountain
   menedh (Cornish)
         mynydd (Çymru) -

ah... well then...
that explains the separatist movement
of Cornwall akin
to the Spanish Basque or
the Catalonia...

  white cross on a black flag...
they're ******* Welsh down
in Cornwall!
   i was eating a Welsh pasty
all along!
           oh... i see...
  
  that's why they're separatists
down there...
but there's one word that's
crucial in all of this,
given the emblem is
on the Welsh flag...

  dragon...
**** me!
       there's an etymological source
for the word in English...
and, it comes from?
Cornish!

   draig (Çymru)
  dragon... in ******* Cornish!
**** me...

what's... snake?
   serpont (Cornish)
    neidr (Çymru)...

   there are similarities though...
blatant ones...
which explains the separatist
sentiment of the Cornish people...
they are like
the Hindu corp
of the Urdu speaking Welsh...
high Welsh and low Welsh...

nice to know...
thank god i didn't make the brash
etymological decision to
find the long lost cousins
of a shared source
akin to "abstract" words,
like...

        gallos-power-gallu...

****!

          g­od?
       DUW | WUD

well... god is a universal word,
and it matches...
  duw is god in Cornish,
and in Çymru...
   as it is also Allah on Malta...
funny as the fact that Malta
and it's Knights Hospitaller
cross of St. John of
                                 1567.

20 ******* years on these isles -
and only now i realize
why the Cornish are separatists...
they're Welsh...
   in disguise,
under the guise of a tourist
hot spot that's "nookie":
                       i.e. Newquay...

come to think of it...
    even though i'm living in England...
i interacted more with
the Welsh, the Irish and the Scots...
than i have with the English...
    i'm starting to think that...
if i don't make my way to
Yorkshire...
  or Newcastle...
then i lived in a country...
where the supposed countrymen
of said name... never existed!
ha!

well, in english you'd never really know
that Cornwall was once part of Wales,
given that Wales, isn't in the name
Cornwall: but that's in English...

in Polonaise?
        well... Wales / Walia (that double-u
  or rather, the double-v,
   since... erm: ωμέγα?)
         ergo?
      Cornwall / Kornwalia...
      probably the most beautiful part of
England you can begin to imagine...

aside...
   the current debate over "the pond" in
h'america... tuition fees, student debt...
as much as the h'americans love to gloat
and boast this that and the other...

i'm looking at myself...
    i went to university, studied chemistry,
and history...
   3rd year? 12 hours per week in
the laboratories...
three tiers of chemistry:
a.  physical - i hated physical chemistry,
it's so un-chemical...
   too much physics / mathematical
*******, so obviously i was weak at it...
b. inorganic chemistry...
    something that mingles with
   geology / metallurgy...
   eh... so so... it was o.k. and finally
c. organic chemistry...
   my strongest route, my faustian dream...
and so much like cooking,
so much so that... well: heston blumenthal...
maybe that's why i love cooking
so much, since it reminds me of
organic chemistry...
   anyways, i digress...
      back when i studied...
  and labour was in power with their:
education, education, education mantra?
that's what was still great
                  about britain...
the last stand as it were,
   ****, i still remember tha handing over
of hong kong...
    fee, per year? 1,250 quid...
                      that's it...
student loan, 3,000 quid per year...
   i actually did manage to live
             on the 3,000 with enough money
spare to do weekend away trips to paris,
stockholm, barcelona etc. - and god:
how i loved to travel alone,
bumping into strangers in hostels...
and the best part?
    i don't have to repay my loan until
i earn over 15,000 quid per year...
and since i'm not earning that...
                  the loan will be annuled after
30 years...
   mind you... a really **** year to go
to university and become a british citizen...
since... in scotland... e.u. citizens didn't
pay tuition fees!
      hence the massive surge of the polans
circa 2005...
                                 so: america, **** yeah!

but on a night like this,
esp. in the evening prior to the night itself,
there's that surge in electricity in the air...
you're walking to the supermarket
and the most mediocre magic happens...
sonny rollins' blues in your ears
you pass a street lamp and it gets switched
on by the grid...

                   it's only special because
your're listening to jazz and when you listen
to jazz and promenade...
you might as well be as content as if
walking a yorkshire terrier...
    
   while on the way back, instead of your
usual beer... you buy yourself...
a rowntrees ice lolly...
    and you eat that... smirking, feeling
                                                 like a badass.

p.s. the best thing i received from
the university wasn't even the degree...
a chance to play squash, mountain climbing
(glen coe was a beau)...
         a t-shirt...
since, once i left: a self-teaching discipline.
Styles Jun 2015
………………………….****……………………………
…........................*****…..……………­………...
…………………..slick……slippery……………….
………………******……...******…………………..­
……………mitten…………..kitten………………….
…………  pookie…………….treasure………………­
…..……..pudding…………..*******………………
…………..*******…………..scootie………­………..
……………smitten…..………nookie………………...
………………sweet…..……...candy…­……………...
………………..warm……….mound……………….....
…………………...sink……pink………………………..
……………………bush….trim………………………..
……­………………………..…tight………………………………
Gonz and Roses Dec 2011
Sugar ***** the ribbon but feel free to wear  the bow.
Hey who turned off the lights.
It's much more fun to get in touch with your feelings in the dark if ya didnt know.

Forget the missletoe lets ***** under the tree.
Why it's a holiday **** in times square.
Yeah thats feels awsome but im not sure if that was you or me.

Im in the spirt pass the Jack  and let's play hide the yule log
every Santa  loves a ** ** **.
Let's make the naughty list  for a couple of years in one night.
Sugar yes Santas happy to see ya if ya didnt know.

Ring goes the bell, no dude im getting laid so I could care less what ya got.
ten grams for the ****** and for my stoners one pound of ***.
It's the time for giving sugar and ya no they say it's better to give than recive.
No wonder Santa's  so dam happy if only ever day was Christmas Eve.

No need to hang that stocking cause something else is gonna get stuffed tonight.
Why miss Santa in that dress  the elves can almost see your Reindeer.
yes kids i know im not right.

Its a party for two no shirt or shoes required
Deck the halls hey why not invite your sister holly.
It's playtime at the north pole hell no wonder this ***** elf is so Jolly.

On ya little hampsters we must go.
Hey its more than just snow that does blow.
Yes holidays are hell  well for most sure spike the punch
i'll pass on the cookie.
Forget the gifts cause all i want is some holiday nookie.
Yenson Nov 2018
The Cons fed no rations...hahaha

The house breaking Burglars are Chris, Joan, Tom and Kelly
Ably assisted by Jim and Cindy, the black and white *******
who broke up their families, move in together, to **** each other
Life's too short, forget abandoned spouses, what the hell, ok
Then there's Linda, who's had three husbands in ten years
all leaving after a while, leaving her with two kids
to look after, what a palaver, where's a true lover
These ******* ****, use and take then do a runner
Her trust in ******* men ruined to pieces and no nookie

All dysfunctional lives, full of pain, angry at the world
Yes we're in Limehouse, but do we have to **** sour juice
They're all seeking to vent, seeking revenge for their miseries
Look that couple upstairs, always bright, styled like Vogue
neat and tidy, full of laughter, going places, yuppie cts
See quiet husband, walks like Bowie, with a kin of **** swagger
And the wife so cute and petite, drives the shiny Red Mini
He ***** her every night, I hear them, I tell you
Their skins glows, shines like the sun, too happy by half

Chris the Scot married to strife and bother
The criminal life is such wahala, police here and there
its hide and seek, no money, no nookie, no nothing
Well OK, there's Tennants and Special Brew to drown the blues
****** hubby again in Wormwood Scrubs serving ******* Majesty
Tom ain't stealing as much as father, have to beg next door again
Joan is ******* and ain't making no money, now in the duff
only fifteen, by ******* Nobby, from the Young ******* Socialist Brigade, Kelly is also ******* and only twelve, what a life
Ahh ....  life on the Estate is life in *******

Listen you all, here's the deal, here's the number
Those ******* Happy couple at number fifteen
Why ain't them struggling like us all, where's the cushty
You don't see them carping, the ******* are loaded,
Them knobs have it all, smiling and laughing like *******
Let put some fire up their *****, let's teach them street life
Hears they think they are royalties, let tax their ****** *****
I'll be the lookout, you kick in the ****** doors
Liberate their valuables, we'll all have a party

******* Nora, the quiet man has blown a frigging gasket
Says he gonna tell all we are crooks, gonna evict us, the fool
Go get the posse, go put out a contract, a ****** for the jump
We are Eastenders, born by Bow bells, and we look after our own
How ****** dare the toffee nosed tory, says I should go get a job
as if, working for honest gain is our thing, ****** idiot
Yes mate, the boys are out, the contract is on
Let's see Jackanory tell us a bleeding story
Hero to Zero is now playing at Roman Street market

Break them up, mash  them down, ruin their lives
lets play 'trading Places, see how the c
ts feels
I already see cool man strung up. dangling on a rope
How dare they live happy and comfortable
two wages, car, dining out, new attire every day
Come on Jim, Cindy, Linda, all go get your mates
There's work to be done, no time to play
We are the TUC, that's Thieves United Confederation
And we've got the ******* Red Boys in the Team

It's down Tobacco road for Mr Tory, the bleeding ******
Ain't no more laughter, we'll put them in the gutter
Lie and slander, defame and harass, topple Saddam
Get the ******* Red mill going, its round Robin time
How's yer father,  no more mate, not ****** likely for a while
Yer only leg-over is gonna be legging it to the Social Security
Its Dole time, pain and miseries for you sunshine
Sing a song of hate, pariah on a roundabout
Yer marathon man now mate, come meet the Red Devils

Here, They need no ******* introduction
Edna Sweetlove May 2015
The bar behind the theatre was nearly empty apart from a couple of gay boys.
Well, it was a gay bar, so no ******* surprise there.
I glanced at the fat one and decided, 'No thank you very much,'
as I have noticed fat people often smell unpleasantly,
maybe it's the sweat trapped between their ****-cheeks that does it.

But the other one was very cute and I decided I would have him.
In those days, it was regarded as 'de rigeur' to buy a lad a lager and lime
before dragging him home with you for some nookie,
so I coughed up for a half pint with charm and grace.
Sadly, he was no great shakes in the conversational stakes,
but was I after intellectual stimulation? No, I ******* wasn't.

Anyway, once I'd checked his passport to ensure he was over-age
(no one wants any ******* trouble from the bigoted morality squad)
I dragged him back to my elegant bachelor ****-pad
and stripped him off to investigate his lithe little body;
a nice smooth little **** and a reasonably clean ****.
What more can you want from a one night stand?

After a bit of a damp snog and a good old *****,
I lubed him up and gave his *** a right good poking.
He moaned a bit, but then who wouldn't moan,
with seven and a half inches of thick gristle shoved
all the way up their sphincter? I know I would.

After I had filled his rear end with love juice a couple of times,
I felt that kicking out was the name of the game.
Generously, I gave him a half-crown for his bus fare
as he said he was a bit short of cash, being unemployed.
It was the least I could do, as he had three miles to go home,
and it was raining cats and ******* dogs outside.

After he'd left, I checked out the bed sheets (as you would)
and was irritated to find a few skidmarks there,
or they may have been where I wiped my fingers
after having eaten a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk.
A quick sniff confirmed my worst suspicions though.
'Ah well, true love always comes at a price', I reflected,
as I scraped the worst bits off with a nail file.
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
Love Function

Love function.m
------------------------------------------------------­----
function ***= hopeful (pain, pleasure)
% ***                        A romp through the meadows below
%                               perceived as a token invitation to
%                               the gates of heaven and hell back, enjoyed.

***.plans=...
['kiss', 'touch', 'play';
'hug', '*****', 'nookie'];
duration= 45.00;
awk.silence= 480.00pleasure;
rest= 0:1/pain: duration;

love = [ ];

for i= 7:length(pain)
pain = pleasure (u);
if (pleasure= 'kiss' && pain= 'touch' &&  pleasure= 'play' && pain= ''*****' && pleasure= 'hug' &&  pleasure= nookie')
         %checks for comfort
         continue
    end;
    [ii,uu] = find(pain==pleasure);
    moan = cos(2
pipain(ii,uu)duration) + cos(2pipleasure(ii,uu)awk.silence);

love = [love, hate(2,awk.silence), callback]

end;

maybe(yes,no);
relationship(love);
For the geek/nerd in all of us... (no, it doesn't run properly, the variables are incomplete, like love supposed to be).
Edna Sweetlove Aug 2015
Another enchanting "Barry Hodges Memory" poem for you all!

O glorious Art Deco edifice, tucked away behind the 'Dilly!
In your near century of hospitality, how many millions of visitors
Must have thronged your rooms, meeting, greeting, eating, sleeping
And (need I specify the obvious?) ******* away the fleeting hours?
How sad it is to think that the dear Regent Palace has fallen victim
To the money-grabbing developers' philistine wrecking *****.

Rumour came to me in the Seventies that the ground floor cocktail bar
Had gained a somewhat , shall we say, *louche
reputation,
Being frequented by ladies of the night and part-time gigolos;
And that the hustle and bustle of the reception area meant that
Staff would hardly notice if guests invited a newly made friend upstairs
For some horizontal entertainment, be it on a cash or ex gratia basis.

Several evenings, perhaps after a night at the theatre, I paid a brief visit
To the dimly lit bar, with its sophisticated black pianist tinkling out a tune
In the very best Casablanca tradition, perhaps even crooning a little ditty.
One summer night I recall I dropped in, probably post-prandially
More in hope than serious expectation, ordered an over-priced G&T;
And settled down to assess the odds on some casual leg-over action.

Much to my surprise I was soon joined by a large middle-aged blonde
(to a naive young chappie, any woman over 35 is no spring chicken);
She was Icelandic and big with it in the mammary department,
But not fat I hasten to add, just sturdy, like a splendid Wagnerian Valkyrie;
Yea, I knew she was gagging for it when she confided that, only last week,
She had shared l'amour with a young stranger in the Wienerwald al fresco.

I cannot recall much of our no doubt fascinating intellectual conversation
And I certainly can't remember her name, but I do know I readily acquiesced
To her generous invitation to participate in a glug of her duty free allowance
Within the intimate privacy of her spartan little bedroom on the seventh floor.
Delightfully, to my mild pleasure, our upwards journey in the crowded lift
Enticed her to caress my eager testicles in a heart-warmingly experienced way.

Over a malt whisky and, following an extended exchange of warm saliva,
We ended up stark ******* naked in the rather narrow single bed;
Sadly, my recollections of our coupling have gone the way of all flesh
(but my well-preserved diary for that year notes I gave her the works thrice)
And I do vividly remember wondering what time the Underground started
on Sunday mornings as I was no longer enamoured of her tobacco breath.

Now, dear reader, we come to the ****** of my night of Nordic nookie:
Just as the dawn's early light was filtering through the ill-fitting curtains,
My partner in lust informed me that she desperately needed a squirt
(I fear I omitted to mention that the RPH didn't run to en suite facilities)
And that, rather than struggle down the corridor to the communal bogs,
She intended to void her bloated bladder in the waiting washbasin.

She enjoined me to be a gentleman and to refrain from watching her
As she performed her toilette and I assured her, with a covert smile,
That I would not breach her urinary modesty. Thus I slyly observed her
Waltz over to the window and, with the assistance of a handy little chair,
Hoist her ample buttocks up on the basin and let fly her steaming ****;
O, what a romantic sound it made as it splashed onto the porcelain!

As I lay there, entranced by the sight of my piddling blonde Brünnhilde,
An unexpected sound intruded over the splatter of her seething waters:
O Jesu! Suddenly, in the veritable twinkling of an eye, the basin's supports,
Unequal to the unscheduled weight of the female Goliath squatting thereon,
Gave way and what's-her-name fell to the economically carpeted floor,
Screaming in fear, spread-eagled in ****-drenched shattered chinaware.

To say I was beside myself with mirth would be an understatement but,
Gentlemanly as always, I managed to pass off my gargled giggles
As evidence of gallant concern. As soon as common decency permitted,
I made my excuses and left the disconcerted dear to tidy up a bit.
But I will confess to emitting a huge howl of uncontrolled laughter
As I raced off to the nearest toilet (I too was bursting for a huge slash).
Cunning Linguist Apr 2014
Then took her by complete surprise;
Bursting forth into hysterics
I gazed into her glazed, mesmeric eyes

My intention descending like nightmarish haze;
Said **** that merit badge
Grandma ***** let the cat out the bag
I wanna play


She's fixin for a lickin
And I'm dying to get a taste

That ***** glistening so listen
Preheat the oven don't need no glove
I've got an addiction
finna bore in
frictionless!

Instantly smitten,
Her face turned shades of crimson
when I finished with
"Lets play genital hide & seek -
You're it"
It's time to remit demented dementia baby
I'm not so easy to forget;
& I'm shots of splotchy red like syphilis

Don't front like you won't give me the nookie
Girl urrbody had a crack at your world famous cookies
& I just can't keep my hand out the jar


Tonight I'll wrestle a cougar with my bare hands
I pity the fool
who'd refuse
To dust off that honeypot
& Dive in head first
Like Winnie the Pooh
mark john junor Oct 2013
such heights
that the heart soars
that the world soaked in such delightful
and enchanting light
that the limitless endurance of unbound soul
and strength of but even such a small smile

her kitten perfect punk rock makeup
entices me to kiss her
but i get entangled in the knitting needle
stuck in her eyebrow
its sharp surface reflections
gives me a glimpse of myself
and my noble knight shinning armor fumblings
and how quaint i must be to her
so old and all
with my guitar and my candles
in the hall
singing a serenade in broken french
at three am

i cook dinner for the six of us
but her friends all female versions
of jealous eyes
just look at my food with guilty suspicion
and the reflections are starting to get to me
after all how should i see
myself except as her other half
and im lacking a mohawk
and id feel kinda silly in one so
i drive in the towns roundabout
looking for a burmuda cop in downtown miami

from these grand heights
i find my way down to the realization
that i never fit into her sense of style
but i went in perfect with her collection of keychains
and teddy bears
im a collectable from the poets line
and how many got of of them hanging bout in the closet
but she strips down and says
hey babe forget the fashion noise
come here and get you some nookie
wanna chew on ya like a chocolate chip cookie
from the grand heights
to going down on the depths
aint so bad after all
Edna Sweetlove Dec 2014
EDNA: Please sit down, William. How are you today?

WILLIAM: Fine thank you, Edna. How are you? I read that you were having trouble with your piles.

EDNA: Mind your own ******* business. I'm doing the interviewing here.

WILLIAM: Sorry, Edna.

EDNA: Right, now I hear you are a wife-swapper. How did that start?

WILLIAM: Well, Edna, after I had been married a few years, I got fed up with ******* the same **** and so I started wandering a bit. And my ******* wife found out and broke my leg with a sledge hammer.

EDNA: That must have hurt.

WILLIAM: Of course it ******* well hurt. Not only that, it made ******* impossible for months.

EDNA: [laughing sympathetically] And then?

WILLIAM: Well, once the leg mended, since I still fancied a bit of spare nookie, I suggested to my lady wife, we try some wife-swapping.

EDNA: How did she react to your mentioning swinging?

WILLIAM: Swinging? You mean life my wife's fat *******?

EDNA: I'll ignore that. Get on with the story for Christ's sake. You'll bore my readers' **** off.

WILLIAM: As I was saying, she was quite keen on it. In fact she said 'As long as the geezers involved have a bigger **** than yours, I'm up for it'.

EDNA: Yes, I heard your **** was small, William.

WILLIAM: Anyway, we joined the Maidstone Wife-Swappers Club the next week and have been swapping ever since.

EDNA: Ever since? How long ago was that, then?

WILLIAM: About five years ago, Edna. The MWSC meets once a month, there's usually quite a few couples there and we go most times, especially if we've heard there's some new members, if you get my meaning.

EDNA: Members? Members? That's a good one. You should be on the stand-up circuit with material like that, William.

[Edna and William laugh gaily]

EDNA: Tell me, do you swap with only one couple at these swingers parties? Or do you mingle, so to speak? Roughly many couples have you swapped with, then?

WILLIAM: As a result of our participation in at the Maidstone Wife-Swappers meetings, I have shagged 84 women and Eileen, my dear wife, has been ****** by 245 men.

EDNA: You can go now.

WILLIAM: Pardon me?

EDNA: *******.

*[Interview terminated at this point.]
Ben Jones Mar 2014
Before the time of humans
When the Earth was bare and new
As the sand was poured along the shore
And the sky was painted blue
A single breed of creature
Had dominion of the land
God’s chosen kind: The Turkey
To adhere to his command

They fluttered forth and multiplied
Quite fruitful, they became
They fornicated day and night
Each downy chap and dame
And God was not too happy
“Now hang on just a minute
I said that you should multiply
But, ******, there’s a limit”

The Turkeys gobbled ruefully
For lack of hanky-panky
Until, up stepped a noble fowl
By the name of Lance the Lanky
He stood at least a meter high
His beak was sharpened weekly
The Lord appeared unto him
“Yes ,Lance?” He ventured meekly

Lance stuck out his mighty chest
And issued his demands
For he couldn't get his rocks off
And was quite bereft of hands
“My Lord, I want some nookie
And this abstinence is shocking!
I’m not the kind of feathered ****
To tolerate a blocking”

The Lord rolled up his baggy sleeves
“Now quit your ****** prattle
We’ll settle this the proper way
Prepare yourself for battle!
Name your choice of weapon”
“I will!” responded Lance
“We’ll settle on a victor
Through the medium of dance”

So God moved on the firmament
And Lo! In flashing squares
A dance floor, he constructed
And around it, tiny chairs
The turkey folk assembled
As the Lord and Lance prepared
And to the beat of Tiger Feet
The dance-off was declared

Lance stepped up and Tap-danced
For birds, a skillful deed
He clicked and clattered flawlessly
And took an early lead
But God was quick to counter
With a cheeky little Rumba
The music changed at His command
To a Shakin’ Stevens number

Lance tried Paso Doble
But he made a major blunder
He put his feet too far apart
And Lord God Limbo-ed under
They formed up for a Charleston
The audience were wowed
Then tangled in a tango
Turning circles for the crowd

Their Salsa was spectacular
The Cossack dance was kickin’
So Lance pressed his advantage
With a faultless Funky Chicken
The scores were near identical
For the Foxtrot and the Jive
God had racked up forty three
And Lance had forty five

The Harlem Shake was noteworthy
The Lap Dance, indescribable
The scores were kept by seraphim
Reputedly unbribable
Endlessly, they boogied on
They threw the Highland Fling
But crisis! Lance tripped over
And he sprained his mighty wing

God was named as champion
And not the least bit pleased
The Turkey Folk were banished
Their nests and corn were seized
Then God made just two humans
And to save himself some grief
Instead of genitalia
He gave them each a leaf

He made for them a garden
With a host of fruit and veg
He bid them “See just yonder
“Behind the garden hedge
That’s where I keep the Turkeys
And each ****** one's a sinner
So gather sage and onions up
I’ll show you what’s for dinner”
jeffrey robin Aug 2013
Chicken Little has been cloned

And here we are!!!

----

Disguising ourselves as humans

We rut around like pigs

As we hunt for nookie!

--

And

In maudlin words of infinite hypocrisy

We write of our fakery unto the world!!
---

LOVE POEMS!
..
When I read them it feels like I'm being puked upon!

--

Loveless love!

Joyless ***!

Absolutely no compassion!

--

Drone airplanes up ahead !

But all the Chicken Littles

Do not see

Staring into fantacy worlds
Styles Jun 2015
………………………….****……………………………
…........................*****…..……………­………...
…………………..slick……slippery……………….
………………******……...******…………………..­
……………mitten…………..kitten………………….
…………  pookie…………….treasure………………
…..……..pudding…………..*******……………­…
…………..*******…………..scootie………………..
……………smitten…..………nookie…………­……...
………………sweet…..……...candy………………...
………………..warm……….mound…………­…….....
…………………...sink……pink………………………..
……………………bush….trim………………………..
……­………………………..…tight………………………………
Styles Jun 2015
………………………….****……………………………
…........................*****…..……………­………...
…………………..slick……slippery……………….
………………******……...******…………………..­
……………mitten…………..kitten………………….
…………  pookie…………….treasure………………
…..……..pudding…………..*******……………­…
…………..*******…………..scootie………………..
……………smitten…..………nookie…………­……...
………………sweet…..……...candy………………...
………………..warm……….mound…………­…….....
…………………...sink……pink………………………..
……………………bush….trim………………………..
……­………………………..…tight………………………………
jeffrey robin Oct 2015
0      0
<>

/     (  •  )  (.  •. ).    \



                                                  ( come come   come here -- BABY ! )

Come give me yer Love !  

Yeah Yeah Yeah

••

bring in on over

Put it on da bed der

I WANT

yer love



::



Yer like a hamburger

With jalepeno peppers !

OOOH !

I want dat Love !



I love ta see ya

Wallowing in jealousy

ooh !

SUCH A LOVE !

,,,

Oh BABY

yer for me !

///

Ya don't say much

( I like it dat way ! )

::

Ya got da greatest *******

With which to play

So bring over some joints

And some Chardonnay

NOOKIE NOOKIE

All thru the night  

And tomorrow the same !!!

)()()(

Love  Love

( ya know I love ya baby )

So just

Bring them joints

And

The Chardonnay !!!


Jude kyrie Oct 2016
The Colors of Love are a Rainbow
A short story of life
By
Jude Kyrie

How can anyone be so stunningly beautiful and yet be a total ***** he thought.
He had fallen in love with Meg for all the wrong reasons.
She nearly wore the bed out in his small apartment he thought his spaceship  had crash landed on planet **** for the six months he dated her.
Then he married her
That's when it changed.
Yes for sure it was then.

He should write a book
Just two word long
a sure fire ******* best seller.

How to cure a Nymphomaniac
By Harry Proctor
Marry Them
The End

She was bossy and mean
Do this do that
Are you never getting up the garden's overgrown you idle *****.
**** the garden i said under my breath.
Get in here for some more nookie.

I think it was after a year I hated her guts.
Get over here and fix the TV  remote you useless ****.
GGGGRRRRR
I mouthed ***** and she heard me whisper ******* Harpie.
She went quiet I thought maybe
I just need to get a pair and stand up to her.
She reached me in the kitchen and delivered
a three-pointer right in my goolies.
*** ***
I thought I was going to have three Adam's apples.

She took me to bed later
When all was functioning again
She was ******* incredible
she could do things the girls did
in the naughty, man magazines I kept hidden.
I met Annette and her husband at a street party.
It must be thirty years ago now.
God, I never believed in love at first sight but she got me.
Soft spoken blue eyed ***** *** I wanted her.
It was mutual.
but we didn't take it to its conclusion she was married to Bill
And I had Meg my ******* nightmare harpie.
She noticed me ogling Annette and cut my *** off for six weeks.
I laughed at her make it a ******* year I don't care.
After three months
she took me back to her bed
my tongue hanging out to my toes
the dog was starting to look good.
And ****** the rest of my brains out on the bed.
God to her  that sack was like a pool table to a hustler.

She said don't you even think of trying to get a divorce
she was slicing a big tomato with Henkel carver extra slow so ******* malevolent.
Imagine your useless **** on here she smiled menacingly
as a thin skinny slice of tomato fell on the cutting board.
You belong to me Harry
Don't you ever forget it,
She scared the bejabbers out of me .

I tried to relive all my sins
but I can't think of one bad enough to deserve this
….I almost used the C word--
it was on the tip of my tongue
but my aversion therapy flooded in.

I had used it as a boy on my buddy
when he missed a penalty in the school playoffs
my mom had heard.
And even now whenever I try to use it I can taste lye soap.

So I changed it to the B word.

After thirty-five years she was hit by a truck and was killed instantly.
All I could think was
I hope the poor truck driver is alright.
And then dancing around the living room.
IM FREE __IM FREE----  IM FREE
YEAHHHHHH!!!


I decided to go to church again
He had finally answered one of my ******* prayers.
I found God at the age of  Fifty- eight.

I saw Annette in the church
she was older but still filled a great bra.
She said harry sorry for your loss
I looked sad and down at the floor
put my poor ******* Harry face on.
And thought
Don't make me laugh Annette
I got chapped lips.

She came over a week later.
She was in my bed ready for a Harry Special.
I had waited thirty ******* years for this.
Get ready girl Dr. Loves just a moment away.

Then on the dresser in front of me.
Was a picture of our wedding day
She was beautiful just like I remembered.
God I couldn't wait to get her out of that ******* dress.
I think I had an ******* for the whole service.
I could hardly remember the words.
Do you take this woman-----a mile away
You're **** tooting
I'll take this woman
Wait while I get her in that hotel.
And give her America's favorite breakfast
A roll in bed with honey.

Then it hit me like a ******* black shadow
I sat on the edge of the bed.
The long lusted Annette ready to trot.
But I was
Weeping like a child
with my head in my hands.
I said to Annette.
I am sorry honey.
I just can't do it
I just didn't realize
how much I loved my wife.
Not all marriages are made in heaven
but they are all lived here on earth
LOL
Jude
jeffrey robin Aug 2015
if




                                                    ( if you really don't care
                           why bother ? )

//

and thus the story called      OUR DAY.                                                    

::

int­o the blinding light

We stumble

::

in and out of the Penny Arcade

//

The vast array of games !

( lookie lookie !

Lotsa        Nookie ! )

//

Into the shadows of the Alleyways

:::

Words of love dribble down

From the mouths with the forked tongues

And the busted teeth



She walks around with her ******* exposed

So the boys can  see the beauty there

//

She wanders  naked thru the streets

Her purity

Bringing

Peace to the world

//

//

( nothing -- in any way -- is " for Sale " )

••

We are the golden ones !

//

We

//

We bother

//

Gaze upon us and be glad

//

Gaze and follow

Toward the light

Till
You see yourself there
PhiWrit May 2019
Keep my tech-tight(tektite) when I'm in the light of Anna
That Black Magic Woman wrote about by Santana
Got me on my Gnostic degrees of Elysium
As the waves break I feel the sea breeze again
This is unbridled magick none could match it
You're a spider recluse so I know none'll ****** it
I'm untying my noose n woes I throw like a match stick
Into my past I drowned with kerosene gases
As we walk into the future I'm sure the path's lit
I hope these words act as a suture for patching
The vast wings that escape in sextuplets out your back, sing
Me the song of your mind for it's divine how I soar
When the breath of life escapes those wind pipes of yours
No co-dependency, for I survive and thrive by the Lord
Just a measure of the pleasure your presence affords
Past-Lives flashing not the first time our essence met before

because the way we glow you could say that our colours are kin.
The way we flow you would say that we're lovers of sin
But that's the way she goes when you're a rose in the wind
Such a long way but at the end I know that we're destined
because the way we glow you could say that our colours are kin.
The way we flow you would say that we're lovers of sin
But that's the way she goes when you're a rose in the wind
Such a long way but at the end I know that we're destined

Let's you and I form a Leo/Gemini Caduceus
Intertwine and heal from the ruthlessness
Of the worlds we knew before we grew with this
Spark between souls of gold, please hold, I'm new to this
Sensation that lifts my senses to elation
Cloud 9 is the elevation, has my heart pacing
My butterflies wonder why they start racing
Could never utter lies to get into your basement
See my core holds the key to your hearts encasement
No chasing or evasion, it's magnetic at its basics
So face what's waiting for your appreciating
A kind of affection never expect my love's depreciating
I come correct with my dialect, not dying yet
Defying set norms and rules, leave you lying wet
When I look into your eyes that's the vibe I get
So let's get our minds together, go ahead try the best

because the way we glow you could say that our colours are kin.
The way we flow you would say that we're lovers of sin
But that's the way she goes when you're a rose in the wind
Such a long way but at the end I know that we're destined
because the way we glow you could say that our colours are kin.
The way we flow you would say that we're lovers of sin
But that's the way she goes when you're a rose in the wind
Such a long way but at the end I know that we're destined

The way your spirit flows forth
from your serpentine form
swarms my heart with a warm
fire that lights my whole mind, body, soul
in a blizzard I'd forget the cold,
your vocal chords are strung of gold
for every word be spoke be so precious to hold,
though you're born a Black Hole Sun Lioness
your wit isn't lacking in ol' Scorpio sharpness
with a witchy will to harness the darkness
and mold it into light, oh what a sight,
I couldn't try to fight when you fit so right
into my broken body puzzle piece shaped ever oddly,
whether it be God or our manifesting hard that brought these
moments we've shared into the aether of infinity,
it isn't a sin if it took form before time did begin, see

because the way we glow you could say that our colours are kin.
The way we flow you would say that we're lovers of sin
But that's the way she goes when you're a rose in the wind
Such a long way but at the end I know that we're destined
because the way we glow you could say that our colours are kin.
The way we flow you would say that we're lovers of sin
But that's the way she goes when you're a rose in the wind
Such a long way but at the end I know that we're destined

Soothing like an arrow root cookie, with or without the nookie, that's love straight from above the kind to fit like a glove, no need to push and shove through emotional barriers no matter the storm or how worn my back is I'll still carry her, and when Santa Muerte comes to pass I'll get off my *** on my Greek **** with two coins for Kharon to ferry her, only my love will ever bury her
https://soundcloud.com/phiwrit/rose-in-the-wind-raw/s-ORqlE
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2017
a slavic joke: how dumb must the west africans have been, if the europeans caught them so easily?! you mean these n. f. l. / n. b. a.  hulk goliaths were caught so easily; these gigantic morons were caught like you might catch a down syndrome sufferer? how stupid do you have to be, to get caught, with all the advantages?!  esp. with the local topography... seems right: głupi do nieba, i głupi jak trzeba: tall to the heavens, and stupid as stupidity needed.*

you, a ******* mrs. of a
******* írē?
want love,
check into a frigin'
         sweetstore owner
like you might to a dentist,
you ******* nookie....
i'll only love-lace you
only when i can curse you,
you boston rat!
            ****** is soft,
we call old-timers *******,
your rapping hooligans we
call the bred-once-never-bred
again **** fathoms...
love you more while hating
you, than by love lacing you...
in s & m and s.t.d.s.,
          ******* culinary
escapades with the coo coo *****...
**** the ladies right,
i agree,
  but **** 'em wrong and i'm
getting rife!
                  she just held her
copper ****** in her arms and you
said doll gall, ye be off yer mark...
markers and seven heavens junior
to a ******* *****...
dance me the ******* jig!
          ******, dance!
        i'll wash m'ah mouth,
                    when i choose *******
labour for the joy,
and not the grippers,
                  nor the intellect,
you fracking ponce of a man!
           there's no thought
with a people who only know
a memory!
               as asked:
primus motif -
              the prime motive -
labours to a loss,
                             labours to a gain,
labours to the work,
                           labours to a fain.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2020
what social stigma about wearing masks?
well... in all honesty...
i do feel kind of stupid wearing
latex gloves and a surgical mask...

i am, not, a surgeon...
     where's the body to find an atlas
of my arms?
    nowhere... exactly!
       i was almost punished into wearing
a mask outside...
i started thinking of halloween...
where is my devil mask...
where is my... madre muerte mask?

but what of the social "stigma":
the conspiracy theory and tin-foil hats
and waiting for the sputniks
of the whittle green-men?

social stigma...
                 ha! i quiet like it...
i can what all the women dodging
physiognomy affairs have done...
since at least 700AD...
   i can't look this "affair" as a social
stigma concern...
i just... pretend... there's a niqab vacant...
any distinguishing features...
oh yeah: that beard will just not fold
in under a surgical mask...

then again: what i wouldn't...
but otherwise do...
with a devil's mask...
               right about now...
             suffocating in...
               or rather... exfoliating with...
show me the proper gimp suit!
the old halloween should have
mattered...
       oblitarated by...
caughing... everything looked so serene
when Chernobyll didn't have a will...
but at least...
there are no side-effects...
akin to lilac mushrooms growing out
from under armpits and between
toes...
a hideous affair...

                          otherwise...
one almost wishes for there to be symptoms
more potent... more visible...
not this... shy flu...
  this: headshot and dropping dead...
like those victims of john allen muhammad...
i'm not hearing anything about...
bubonic plague blossoms...
leprosy flakes... mushrooms willing
to grow in man's armpits... lilac...

the evolution of a virus... well...
let's mind the aesthetic...
and let's mind... the evolution of the virus...
of not exposing itself as immediately...
evident... there are no apparent...
"facts"... only subversive narratives...

       i don't mind wearing a surgical mask...
i do mind that there is no surgury for me
to undertake...
i promise you: even Dickens could
waste a paragraph on this sort of:
self-congragulating... pompously formal
language refrains...
or what-not...

        all i'm saying...
if death was baptised with: the great anonymity
of the communist gulags...
no numbers even to date... to unearth...
then "the virus" was giving into
the great aesthetic of turning into stealth:
covert...

           in that self-replicating perfection...
by god: to have only a tsunami to see...
or an earthquake to feel...
or follow the herd nihilism and fatalism of
Pompeii...
         but there are no lilal mushrooms
growing from my armpits...
no bogus pillows of fuss
when pierced turning into... sparkle of
the communication highway of...

      the next lick of the post-stamp...
the stampade of: clickbait: sent sent sent...

"how soon is now?"
  well i've been using female deodorant...
and reading poems by colts...
16 year old boys in first time loves...
and i'm beginning to become...
very... fond of female deodorant... dove...
esp... since it equips me with
a scent of soap... under my armpits...
which is such a neutral scent...
and there's nothing sporty...
or masculine about it...

             i'll just baptise my hands
in the earth... as i garden...
and feed into the concept of: esq. as borrowed
from the victorian period...
and... forget to read the newspaper...
most probably the times...
that centrist... right? i guess right...
magic-"thought"-machine...
but the weekend comes and the opinion
columns come in...
and there's this restaurant critic...
with two houses...
one in London and one in the Cotswolds...
and i am...
                     there's no...
     basement or a single mother...
            there's no attic...
i would love to have an ed gein little brother
handy to go... kite-running...
or chasing mice...

     this is the newspaper of me being...
"best... best-of: besting" a crowd of the...
ahem... "well-informed"...
     i am a restaurant critic...
        i am not...
                    i much appreciate the old halloween...
if they could see us now...
i see the devil... and he's... only a dumb...
irritating b'aah b'aah... trembling at the gown
before losing it... knee high...
to a ****-it-all-carousel ride up
an imaginary everest...

            i will have to think about about
squandering handshakes...
but of course i will not...
i'll see it an acre ahead of me...
a possible suspect...
so i cross the street...
and in all this glory of british idiosyncracy:
i can become as weird as i want to...
what... with stories of people purposively
coughing... sneezing... spitting...
on key-workers...
  and all the other workers...
the idle... membrane caste...
the office paper-parasites...

                    of the work most terrifyingly
viable... and... necessary...
oh the woe of insinuation that...
they can indeed stay indoors...
because: such is the demand for them being
preoccupied with "professions"...
such "important" very "important"
hobbit-people...

      the surgical masks are go!
i've been so... so ******* jealous of playing
Batman every time i saw a niqab strolled
casually... i can finally be what i've always
wanted... a ***** of Muhammad's harem...
i can... start considering a tortoise shell
like a... like a... stained glass fraction piece...
to fit it with burning embers of replicated
quest for: gesticulating devotion...
fit the riddle with singing chandeliers
and... calcium... a pouch rock of the most
necessary fiddle-with...

the ****'s up with american-english...
and a surname...
i hear it... first time... probably the last time...
'coal-bear'... o.k. i type it in..
coal.... bear...
   wait... no... wait... this is not a joke...
this is not some 16 year old's love... frenzied fancy...
it's gavin mcinnes...
coal... bear...
      must be a canadian "thing"...
it's still not a joke...
keeping up appearances...
   it's mrs. beau-kay...
            beau-             -qay...
McfuckingQee...
     one of those nookie incidents...

is that the one where...
the H is a surd...
and Bill gets the preferential roman
empire treatment of: m'ah: air...
or "mayor"... or... mÆr?
           marr... merr... myrh... fff... fff...
   "coal-bear"...
mrs.: bucket(t): yes the added T because...
hell... samuel... beckett...
        col-bert!
                  col........... bert-rand ru-ß-ell!
ha... the germans will never see this one
coming... sure sure... the... digraph of S und Z...

what about the digraph or R and Z?
in... oh... the e.g. of schwarz?!
i'm no german but... the ß is a little bit: "devoid"...
looks like we need a russian roulette...
schwarц!

             w'ah w'ah... volkswagen:
                 woo... wearisome: verily though...
why this... pandering to the francophones...
coal-bear... am i... DEAF... or something?!
colbert...
              ah... if it's not coal-bear...
but... simply: colbert...
it's like someone with a surname...
smith... or: kovalski...
          what cow?
                   ******* excesses of anglo-saxon
immigrant leftovers of phonetic
schlomo slang...
                     what's wrong with a distinct
and pristine... crisp piece of paper tow
of an ending with T...
oh forget the R... the tarantulla bit you:
you tongue is numb... you will not find the trill
of the R, ever... again...

- and the trouble the punk is that...
the cool kids: the gatekeepers...
and... what's "allowed" and what "isn't":
that mojo ****-fest of...
come before the court of the crimson king...
can-do...
C = K...
            but... calipathe isn't exactly a (k)nife...
since... the latter is a surd...
a greek rubric:
                            ψ = π = σ = "sigh"...
but not really...
              ψychology...
                      in that... ψyχology...
"C"overt... and a chimera...
but not a... CHeat!

                  i could never fall in love with punk...
sure... high fidelity...
and... stiff little fingers... the end...

                 Calvin Klein...
                      if... once upon a time...
all it took was a ****** to woo
the spontaneity... now there's a blue...
chequers and chase?
can i please become
the next... "next": Garrincha...
and become a ****** again:
and lose "it": to the goat... like he did...
or to a cow... standing upon...
a peddlestool?
or the stone that... Sysiphus rolled up
that vanity avenue of a...
hill?

the intricacies of a fly biting:
but first regurgitating its juices...
to slurp up the digestive puddle first...
i say... who would need any exposure
to bone: to later wither in a proclamation
of a shmile... better the puddle of
the stomach: intuitively...
laid before you...
all that's required is the milkshake...
and the slur(r)-p'ah!

******* ideologues of darwinism...
so worried about their hard-ons...
they shun the alcoholic goldfish...
for... a ditto-head paradigm...
     to boast about the ape...
always with those apes...
there is never... any... mention of
the nobility of swans or of rooks...
or the motherhood of whales...
it's always with those... ******* apes!

i like the sound of mimic...
involuntarily conscripting the volume of...
bugs... i like the sound of...
toasting... crunching...
"slimey"... yet... "satisfying" sushi...

ha ha... mr. colbert... no no... apologies!
coal-bear!
mr. colbert, n'est(-ce) pas?

again: to reiterate...
no... nein nein nein...
one of those "et tu" scenarios?

tout de ce?!
                 arm-band... a dragon
for the yield:
           Çymreag...
       as i am past looking up...
the h'american *******...
because i've been regurgitating its...
cultural "woke" with so much...
so much of what's otherwise...
the whittle oasis of europe...
this chinese libersation
army of microbes...
has allowed "us" to...
put a... sinking sensation of the last
h'american export enterprise...
youtube videos...

           because i love each and every
language: so...
that comprise... this... well...
established... lack... of... egoistic...
cuckerry (with viagara aids)...
lucky for me...
the brothel: bei der bereit!!!!!

any english is better than the english...
spaghetti twiting its way out
of the confines of... h'america...
   yes: dear citizen leader...
yes... citizen king... yes yes yes!
yes: before we get to speak to the president!
there's a membrane of mcdonald's to
sieve through!
yes... mr. here: yes mr. right!
oh yes: mein mein "j.f.k." my raynold:
reginal... raymond and knline and keagan...
and my... reagan!

              yes my wall in berlin...
yes my: eisenvorhang...
ja: meine siliziumpäpstin!
ja! ja! wunderbar!
                   beifall! gründlich beifall!
teufelzirkus!
perhaps... the essential gratification
could have come with...
the slowed down blitzkrieg of
the blitz cloud over London...

                   aber...
                                     what zeppelins?
this borrowed tongue...
and its host...
    to speak... so freely a whittle bit of german...
a crumb of it... in this... peacock garden
of the inverted satellite state and...

i was alone as i walked past
the union jack and i aided my shadow to
concern itself with a reply...
you wouldn't want to think it...
but i think it, nonetheless....
there is no more brilliant concern for
the entity of flags...
in this world... beside...
the union jack...

             what a keeper this ol' jack o' all
trades!
               i'm sorry... my venture from
Galicia teasing ends... here...
on the unionist parade of an ol' 'ipper...
because: god forbid i would become
an albino: integration sensation under
the 'tars and 'anner...
or whatever the name is...
'tars and 'tripes: no?

              vivid... the... insult served upon
the... whereabouts of the wind-hunters...
the Persians and the Greeks...
it's almost like: breathing backwards...
or finding carbohydrates in choking!

because the gravitas is there!
it's not enough to simply allow zeppelins
to drop bombs...
so much more: soul infuriating
a counter-blossom:

that white is: weiß
that black is: schwarц...
         burden my soul for this avenue of
the egomaniac saxon...
the pauper swabian lot of... "Überbleibsel"...

and unlike "our" h'american counter-parts...
we do feast on a "good fight" with...
hands... and the arithmetic of knuckles...
rather than egoism and ******* measurement...
and that long-forgotten backbone
of the... "weltbürgerwahlspruch"!

so much... "arbeitnotwendig" in...
the... vicinity...
  arbeit?! was arbeit?!
         ghost buses?!
                    "necessary"...
parading uniforms?
        that's... work... yes?
                     by the looks of it...
3/4 is not necessary... work... as work is
to be exaggerated...
        abflusseskapaden...
or poaching the seal that... claps...
for the future of the already emptied
theatre!

social stigma...
surgical masks... no surgery apparent...
well i just look at the good sisters of islam
wishing us the 11th plague of god
and all those concerns for the righteous living
through this "tsunami"...
and i'm... given the sort of solace that shouldn't
be required... as i... pretend to imitate
donning a ninja-niqab!
Infamous one Jan 2021
H58
Dating was not the same, some want the perks. while back in the days, you had to earned the nookie. Not trying to rush, but can't be waiting around. Thought it was real turned out to be an act. The mask came off the person I loved doesn't exist. A sick of twisted game, so much hurt with the pain is real.
Talked about kids had a scare you talked about an abortion denied the right to be a father. Talked about marriage a failed attempt to save a lifeless relationship that was at the end. Trying to make it work when it was clearly over.
Long distance wouldn't work could barely function in the same room. Life can be cruel one was loyal and true while the other was sabotaging a good thing that became
Seth Seaman Nov 2020
What's on my mind would blow the sky, limits set loose, too close for your kind!
3rd contact ,furthering intellectual spand ,limits meant to break your mind!!
Set to high-speed, don't forget , buckle up ,we're on lightspeed, so dark like darth you can't sense me. Lightsabers blarring , 20' in the trunk we got no need for your action judging, a padawon disrespecting gonna get a force lightning!!
Its not a contradiction it's a depiction , whether I zap you out a window like Mace Windu or ghetto blast you,Greeto splat you. Y'all still flat, gravestones wrote and nothing to change that. Won't even understand , 'cause Wookie don't sell it, you'll buy it, treat her like **** and turn it like you lied it. Girl found out and tried it, never goin back ,cause she liked it! Fuzzy wuzzy wookie nookie tried to tall tale her and I took it, a cookie from your girl scout, but crying like she like it.
I was feeling spunky and star wars, double nerd moment, ewwwww.
Yenson Jan 2022
Oh for heaven's sake
crawl out and come tell
how my emotions are feeling today
pray spit the unrequited love theme
throw in the mine-oh-mine Italiano te amo
string out the aloneness and no mates billy
lets rant of time and old age with dreams
how's no nookie or kisses or a warm body
oh where is my broken heart and my tears
or sorrow and the anxiety courting depression
where is the broken mind and head full of doubts
what oh what are my emotions supposed to be doing
for this amiable indomitable spirit here sees providence
and the will of The Creator
and is graced in contentment and grateful joy
knowing to a million lives and in a million million places
there  are ten million people who would gladly take my place
yesterday today tomorrow

— The End —