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Obadiah Grey Dec 2013
Sphincter factor nine approaches
food for the fish n roaches
methinks its time for me perhaps
to open up the rearward *****.


------------------------------------
AAChoo !!

Oh, liddle sister, Josephine,
you sure don't keep your
nose real clean.
got stalactites
o' pure pea green
my infectious sibling
snot machine.
----------------------------------------
I thought that I might shoot the breeze
with God or Mephistopheles
and ask them please to ease my wheeze
of my bad back and dodgy knees
---------------------------
Croak with the raven
bluff with the crow
the urchin
the field mouse
beneath the hedgerow
in a flurry they scurry
away away go.
Yelp with the *****
howl with the hound
and bay at the moon
till the sun comes around.
------------------------------------------
Gino's bar and grill.

Away, away afore Bacchus
doles out befuddlement
and Morpheus has his way,
lest I awake to find myself
in the company of
sodamistic bedfellows
with buggery in mind.
---------------------------------
Harry Potter has grown a beard
he lives alone and turned out weird.
Dumbledore, Albus, no more
turned his toes and 'ad a snore,
Voldemort, who's *** is taut
has no nose with which to snort.
====================

Ahem !!

Behind two Lilies- sits Rose,
then Daisies
for two and a bit rows.
with Poppy, and *****
Petunia, Primrose.
and Bryony - who gets up
- my nose.
----------------------------------------------
Amen.
God bless the Cows - for beef burgers.
God bless the Pig - for their bacon.
God bless the wife n her sharp knife
for the slice of their **** she's taken.

-------------------------------------------------
We can, no more fetter the sea to the shore
nor the clouds to the sky
or tether the glint
in a lovers eye,
As sure the shore loves the sea
so shall I love thee, together,
together for eternity,

-----------------------------------

It bends for thee
sweet chevin,
the cane thats cleaved
by three,
wilt thou now
sweet chevin
yield, my friend ,
for me.
-------------------------------------------------
There's Marmalade then Marmite
and Jams thats jammed between
the buttered bread of bard-dom
a poets sweet cuisine.
---------------------------------------------
I took up campanology
and fired up my ****.
I rang that bell
to ******* hell
till the busies
came along.
--------------------------------------------
so, I've been whittling away
at a buoyant ****-
fashioned something approximating
a poo canoe-
in it, I intend to
surf the **** tsunami of old age
to-- death;
I have named it Public - Service - Pension.


----------------------------------------------

A surreptitious delightful tryst,
with my honey, my sebaceous cyst.
she's my pimple, my wart,
my gumboil consort.
she's the zip, in which
my *******, got caught.
--------------------------------------
Frayed at the bottoms
ripped at the knee.
baggy and saggy
big enough for three.
faded and jaded
and stained with ***
but I'm due for a new pair--
Yippeeeee!!

---------------------------------------

Ther­e's Cockerel in my ear
and he bills and coo's for you
whenever you are near
goes - **** a doodle doo !!!!!,,,,,,,,

---------------------------------------------

Oh,­ for the snap shut skin
in the blue twang of youth
and to un-crack the spine
on the book of love.
now the gulping years
have flown away
we take sips of the night
and are spoon fed the day.

-----------------------------

Zeus made the Moose to be somewhat obtuse,
a big deer- rather queer- I fear.
then God gave him the nod to look funny and odd
the spitting image of you - my dear !!!

---------------------------------------

Knobbly Nobby.

Nobby has a great big nose
a great big nose has he,
and nobby knows
that his big nose,
is big, as big can be,
nobby has two knobbly knees
two knobbly knees has he,
his knobbly knees,
are as knobely
as knobbly knees can be,
don’t pity dear old nobby
for soon it’s plain to see,
that nobby has a great big ****
as big, as big as three !
now nobbys **** is knobly,
as knobly as a **** can be,
so nose and knee and ****
make three,
and we - are ****- ely.

----------------------------------

The Woman that wouldn't eat meat,
had reeaally, reeaally big feet,
her **** was as big as an hermaphrodite brig
and her **** were as hard as concrete….


--------------------------------

Hearken the clarion call of the crows
afore the snow-
they caw,
hey, get your **** into gear lads-
we gotta feckin go !!!

-----------------------------

Gods pad

I took a peek within
your house
wherein on pew, I spied
a mouse,
and in his hand,
a Bible clasped,
and out his mouth,
a parable rasped,

---------------------

I'd say she had
a pigeon loft in
her eyes and
bluebells up
her nose.

But then again
I wear a flat cap

and stroll through meadows.

----------------------------

Would you care to buy our house?
It's minus Mouse n devoid o' Louse,!
Spiders, Roaches, Bugs or other,
have all been eaten by my brother,
snaffled up n swallowed down
then jus' crapped out a - yellowish brown.
so would you care to buy our house?
from an oddly pair -- devoid of nous

-------------------------

Though the Crows got her eyes
and the Worms got her gut.
comes as no surprise
death can't keep her mouth shut.

-------------------

Bevelled slick edges
and reeaal eeaasy slopes.
Chilli dip wedges
with fresh artichokes.
Wanton loose wenches
and swivel hipped ******
Daft dawgs and dentures
and granddad - who snores.

-------------------

Been whittling away at a buoyant ****
and fashioned something approximating a canoe,
in it, I intend to surf the **** tsunami of old age;
I named it, "Public service pension"

-------------------------------

.
Well,
     I could wax on the wings of a butterfly
but, I ain't that kind o' guy.
rather kick the nuts off ******* squirrels
pluck the wings off - blue assed fly.
I'm the stuff that flops off dog chops
when he's up for it and high.
an infection in your sphincter,
a well
that's jus' run dry.

----------------------------------------------

befeathered­ and bright scarlet
is my ladies bonnet,
jauntily askew and -
lilting on a paramours
grin.

"- Gladlaughffi -"

I'm reliably informed that dear ol' Muma
sported a goatee around his **** sphincter,
now, whilst this is merely educated speculation
from my esteemed friend his "groom of the stool" ! 
who was in fact required to wear a mask,
ear muffs and a blindfold whilst he went about his business,
He did possess reeaaally sensitive fingertips
somewhat akin to a blind man reading brail,,
and, swore blind that said "**** sphincter' spoke him in Arabic
and asked him for a quick trim, (short back and sides)
I myself being a practising proctologist of some repute
am inclined to believe my friend the "groom of the stool"
as I've come recognise -- Arsolian when I hear it !!!!!!!!
-------------------------------------

In a Belfast sink by the plughole
where hair and gum gunk meet
'erman the germ-man  and toe jam
bop the bacillus beat.

________

Doctor this I know as fact
that I have a blocked digestive tract,
I'm all bunged up and cannot go
my trump and pump is - somewhat slow.
I need unction jollop for junction wallop
some sorta lotion to give me motion.
If you could please just ease my wheeze
then I needn't grunt and push and squeeze.

-----------------------------

They are breaking out the thwacking sticks
and sparking Godly clogs
pulling tongues through narrowed lips
at the infidel yankee dogs.

------------------------------------

As a paid up member of the
lumpen bourgeoisie poetry appreciation society
I can confirm without fear of contradiction
that poetry is indeed baggy underwear
with ample ball room, voluminous in the extreme
and takes into account
the need for the free flow of flatulent gassiness
that is the want of a ****** up poet.

-----------------------------------------------

She's a rough hewn Trapezoidal gal
a gongoozler o' the ol' canal.
She's copper bottomed n fly boat Sal.

I'll have thee know that
that there hat
is a magic hat,
it renders me invisible
to the arty intelligentsia
and roots me firmly
in the lumpen proletariat .
-------------------------------------------------------
Said the sneaky Scotsman, Jim Blaik.
if the pension, you wish to partake,
bend over my son, lets get this thing done
and cop for this thick trouser snake !!

I met my uncle Albert,
down at Asda, in aisle three;
he got there in a Mazda,
jus' a smidgen after me,
said he'd traversed Sainsburys,
Tesco Liddle n the Spar,
but not one o' them flogged Caviar
Truffles or Foie gras.


He sidled past the pork pies
streaky bacon turkey thighs
a headin for the french fries
n forsaken knock down buys,
shimmied 'round the ankle biters;
expectant mums to be,
popin pills for bloated ills
in the haberdashery.

Fandango'd o'er the cornflakes
and the spillage in isle four

-----------------

I'm linier and analogue,
a ribbon microphone man
mired in the dust of the monochromatic,
the basement, the attic.

------------------------------

Simple simon met miss Tymon going to the fair,
said simple simon to miss Tymon - "pfhwarr what a luverly pair"
of silken thighs and big brown eyes and scrumptious wobbly bits,
Said simple Simon to miss Tymon---------- shame about you **** !!!

So sad sweet Shirl thought she'd give a whirl to clubbercise n pound

Squat, slightly,
tilt head 45°
and squint.
See the shimmering blurry
dot in the distance?
That, timorous ****,
is ME !
Fast twitching my
narrow white ****
to the pub.
Joanna May 21
Watching a sparrow flutter toward a nearby tree, two squirrels at play, and a cat unaware of me.

I saw you.

Feeling the sunshine dance upon my heart, while touching a baby in a shopping cart.

I saw you.

Sensing the encompassing stillness of the lake below, and the mystery that keeps it from brimming to overflow.

I saw you.
When life seems new and time has not made tread marks on your spirit...its important to know there is something greater at work.
We were born
from the clouds,
and immediately  
you turned me
upside-down,
and started singing
in the shower.

Throw me a line,
if you find the time,
i know i'd really like
to catch up with you.

We are all inclined to wander.
We are all inclined to ponder,

Our origins
or if you must
our source,
but lets try to trust
that we are probably
here for some purpose (or other).

Of course that
may be clear
to some of you;
yet to others
its just a fog,
or an ephemeral haze,
of lust and musty smells.

The lingering pain
that dwells
between these shells,
when we confess our faults.

That we are all just
lonely houses,
built on pools of quick-sand,
with glands and nervous systems
that can no longer bear
to heed the soul's
commands.

Why should it make sense,
these feeble attempts
at understanding?

When its all a stance
we take against the odds,
to wager that our lives
were evenly tossed,
like the throwing of darts,
or the casting of dice.

Left spinning on thin ice,
like shopping carts
left in the gap space.

What will take our place
after we face
the ultimate stakes
tonight?
KM Hanslik Jan 10
Try to eat up the sunshine
swallow it like your little white pills
if you don't mind me saying so, I think the clouds look quite lovely
with the shade of your eyes today
but you tell me otherwise
carbon footprints, we've definitely made
our mark on this world
trace our trails back until they separate,
call it fate
but I think you're right
all this commotion collides into odds
incalculable, call it the weather
but things are always changing on us
break out our sweaters and break them in
you know how much the cold used to bother me
but I barely notice it anymore.
ryn Feb 2015
.
•    
re-
     kindle
    the spark
   that governed
    this game•the fire
  that once burnt as bri-
  ght as sun•all of this once
before, had a name•but now
is weak from the time it had be-
gun•there was a time when it wo-
uld consume•......it would defy the
odds....just so it could burn as one•
frantic and desperate for the magic
to resume•uncertainty has carved
itself into the heart that has come
undone•winds bearing ill no-
tions revealed as the enemy•
stitch up the gaps keep-
ing out the rogue
gust•
  pro
tect
  the
light that burns ever weakly•rejuve-
nate the spirit that harbours broken trust
•rekindle me now... i'm still in the game•
the heart                   save the     you will
isn't                              candle           need
ready                           and              to see
to make                         nur-              me    
sense                            ture             with
of the                             it                 this
dark•                             to                  in-  
                                    fla-              sig-  
                                   me•             nia
                                     ­                     as my
                                                         mark
                                                         •
.
Yuki Jan 24
To the lucky ones
in whose hands
a ladybug has landed
today
I wish to not
search for a sign
or better a guise
to be great.
Marina Kay Mar 2014
Many people have asked
why I seem so empty
and I found myself arguing
about how that wasn't true.
Yet here I am,
reminiscing painted blue skies,
nostalgic, for back then
for us,
for you.

When mornings began with casual long walks
plaid skirts,
black coffee,
the daylight's warmth.
Arm in arm, against all odds
we had laughed
we had sung
we were wild, we were young.

I'll remain yearning for those Bambi brown eyes,
long chestnut hair,
darling little dents of delight.

Distant yet close
for I think of you always.

Wishing for time to fly
to when I can hold you in my arms
again.
To my best friend. I wish you were here.
Everyone wrote me off,
They said I wasn't tough,
Enough to make anything work,
They forgot I didn't need their luck.
Nina Kay Jul 2018
Where politeness reins supreme,
honesty becomes a ***** word
It's like your black sheep uncle stumbling through your cocktail party in a stained trench coat.
Nobody wants to see that ****.

Nobody wants to hear your truth.
Nobody wants the burden of carrying your story.
Barely surviving the weight of our own as we are.
We are an overwhelmed society on the brink of collapse.
Don't tip the scales.

Our forefathers may have bled on battle fields to make it home against all odds,
but we seek attention for a splinter;
rushing to the shrink
to shrink the post traumatic stress.

And so I muster phony smiles.
Delight in conversations about the weather.
And never ever tell you that I may not make it through this day.
Let the Dealer take to his Gambles spend
Such that his Boots would limit to arcade
Which two-fold bets cast odds on top descend
And his Service strikes without much delay
I meant the Italian you happened to wear
And strip for Happy Golgotha delight
You wanted Admirers in Cheerful bear
Then their Smiles came true for their ****** Sight
After all, Talk Show's a Norm-for-the-Woos
Which indeed supplements the Popular
Which you desired; And asked you turn loose
To be one of those Studs Spectacular.
Happy for you. Since your own Flesh at stake
As you are now Ripe; Your Best Rind you make.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
ryn Feb 2015
.
**Crushes or
infatuations
•••don't last
••••this long.
•They're never
••this intense
•••••Never
this strong.
••I am in
thought,
••all day
and all night.
•••••Through
•••••moments of
••••••triumph and
•deepest, darkest fright.
•••I see you in all there is,
•••••I see you in everything.
••••••••Living in the present
••••but for the future I'm hoping
•••You calm and get me all riled up
••••••••••••••••at the same time.
••••••••••••You exist in metaphors,
••••••••••••••••••broken sentences
•••••••••••••and time worn rhymes.
•••••••••••••••••You give me life
••••••••••••••and take my breath
•••••••••••away altogether.
•••••••••You hold the key
to my erratic emotional lever.
•••••••••••You fill me full
••••••••••but empty me out
••••••••••••simultaneously.
••••You make me want to be
•••••••••••someone else
••••••••as well as being me.
••••••Paradoxes of the heart
•••they can never be quelled.
••••When hopes and odds
••try to be one and meld.
•••••This is how I know
••••••••that this is real.
•••••••••••••I'm truly,
•••••••••madly, deeply
••••••in love with you
•and it's all that I feel.
Stay tuned for "She Said..."

Best viewed on Apple iOS.
Johnny Agape Aug 2013
I figured it out.
I figured while watching you out in the rain.
From the obscured viewpoint of the warmth and safety of my seat, clashing against the temperature at odds with the outside, in  foggy condensation at my window.
Watching you,
Cold and wild
Wet and Savage.
You. You are the reason, I think.
I think.
For the expression,
"Hasn't enough sense to come out of the rain"
When you can see what's wrong, but can't convince someone to let you help. Something like that.
Desmond the poet Aug 2018
Those you haven’t victimized fear you.
Mighty and dreadful you seem.
Little do they know, you only seize flesh and control the mind.
You seize not the soul.
Hence be not proud.

You’ve dwelled in me for many years.
Imprisoned me to anti-epileptic drugs.
You’ve dispirited me.
You attack, seize, and control my mind.
Your attacks are but brief.

Epilepsy be not proud.
For I fear not what rescind only flesh.
I fear what abolish both soul and flesh.
Proportional to gravitational force I fell.
I’ve always find the forte to rise.

Epilepsy be not proud.
For against all odds, I’m still alive.
https://m.facebook.com/EpilepsyandCpfriends
This poem to show that for as much as I've been epileptic for 32 years I'm still alive because Epilepsy has not managed to **** me.
Timmy Shanti Apr 2017
“I’m your wave – I told her –  
Lay your head right here,
Softly on my shoulder.
Let your thoughts roam free.”

“You’re my air – she told me –
You’re my life and sun.
Singly we are nothing.
Allied we are one.”

“I’m your fire – I uttered –
Burning bright and mild.”
“That be true“ – she muttered,
Slender, sound and wild.

When we are together,
Nothing holds us down
The unwashed may blather,
Let them laugh and frown.

Floating through the cosmos
On a marble blue,
With the odds against us,
We make dreams come true.

24-4-2017
Fresh from the oven. Methinks I messed up the punctuation, namely - direct speech - big time but I do hope it's legible.
Dream on, butterflies!
PrttyBrd Oct 2014
Thick skin falls in pieces
To reveal a molten liquid center
A beauty never gazed upon by another
A glow of heat and pain and ...love
Hidden from prying eyes
Kept safe from strangers and "loved ones" alike
Permanent fists grip tightly
As the center boils hot upon its release
And a trickle becomes a flood
In the right hands...

In the right heart
The stiff grip loosens
And new skin, soft and supple
Replaces the old
Stronger than one could have imagined
Sweeter than one could hope
A butterfly against the odds
And a struggle ends in .....**love
100914
For that sweet one, the one no one else can truly see.
lX0st Mar 18
My will slims to none
In this lonely life for one
Naomi Jul 2018
Even numbers _even numbers
No one chooses odd~ they can’t be split in 2
See, the odd will be lonely forever.. while the even will find love.
We only appreciate those who can give to society.
Go away you odds.
2-4-6-8 who do we appreciate ?
Even people even people


Even during math we are haunted by our deepest fears.
Change love rebel society *****
Sara Kellie Jul 2018
The opening night,
in front of packed house.
The story, a fight,
between a cat and a mouse.
The cat with her guile and
the mouse, all the while.
Powers up a ******' chainsaw
with a knowing wry smile.

So never bet against the mouse
with either money or your house
because the crafty **** takers
have slashed the odds at bookmakers
as to what's in the pies
at the new high street bakers.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Old enemies retold.
emeraldine087 Jul 2017
In our fast-paced world, many things have become easier:
   communication, information, food preparation, even study.
We have the internet, smart phones, tablets, emails,
   Google, Wikipedia, fast food, and instant coffee.

But have we ever stopped to observe just how
   things being easy make them seem more trivial, too?
For the things we’re after, we no longer know
   how to sweat, sacrifice, aspire, wait, persist, endure…

Maybe it’s made us cease to dream as well
   as everything is merely ****** upon us to take.
We have lost the values that only hard work, toiling
   and fighting through insurmountable odds can make.

And even then we never seem to have enough of what we desire,
   not enough sleep, time, knowledge, money, or power;
We find no contentment in what we already possess
   as our seconds, minutes and days are spent wanting more.

Perhaps we need to re-examine where we’re heading,
   take instruction from the numerous generations past.
That it is only that which we strive for, that which we cherish
   with all our hearts and everything we have, that can last.

*(c) emeraldine087
Ken Pepiton Aug 2018
A pocket of thought, ideas.
Impulses, has beens

epi-phenom-enal-con-currencies-synchron-icity
sorting places, thens and nows vying for attention

you see
we till stories in search of true tomorrows
not true
yesterdays (till, I said, not tell)
we **** the hard rows no one else will ***
so seed lies sown are never lies told, if the lies are never taught
or if the liars are caught before convincing the
intended crop to lie and swear a common liege Lord,
or die
for lack of knowing. Non-nascence, simplest
symptom to not see.
Whose death is yours to respond responsibly
to? My child's, or yourn?
In the early days, we knew less than we know now
about how knowing and growing were all
intended
to cost time. Ticks, ono motto whatever, the sound
gears and spiral springs pushing cogs
tick, one tooth tick at atime make

this is rough, un polished, un glossed, is it wrong or

as I imagine a diamond in the rough must seem to a share cropper
experienced in diamond hunting, diamond prospecting,

prospecting expecting inspection to permit
seeing a 3.2 specific gravity,
specific
specify

species or spectacles,
spectators or special-if-eye-cation
value-en-abled. Weigh your mind in balance
with mine. I claim the mind of Christ.
What are the odds?

A wandering path, injoyable enable if-i-abble,
pacing is

everything, timing is everything, time is the test.

Time is the metagame.
Take your time. One word formed sylabble at a time.
Babble on, your confusion makes you mortal, to my mind.
Tick.
A quanta of time. Does time come in bits and pieces cernible,
but undiscernible from reality?

Babble.

Of course, time will tell. We learned that in our sleep, did we not?

Aesop taught us more than Moses, no,
Aesop taught us less than Moses.

But, we could learn to walk bearing the weight of knowing what
Aesop taught,
while we could not stand under the weight
Moses was said
to have taught.

Caught you, Jewboy. Whatchewknow?
The moral of the story.

THE IDEA is to win.
Beware the concision decision.
incisive devices, witty inventions.

Flip the shell, roll the bones, cast the runes and,
as luck might have it, die before your time.

Why factors are lies more oft than how factors.
Benefactors rule malefactors or
how or why would we invest our time in seeking reasons
to believe?

Is this the polished piece, the gemstone of specific gravity
(which currently means nothing to you. Here, you find too light
or too heavy, too weighty on the scale of specific value.)

Hard. Value hard, diamond hard, on Mr. Moore's scaled model of
Knowing exploding for reason's sake, raison d'etre, eh?
Too hard?
Not Mohr,
don't get me wrong.
We been Moore's law breaker all along.
We be manifested destinatory stories of heroes gone wrong.

Outlawed
knowing exploding to be reasoned with, by kind
children destined to become
written in stone, scarred by lies

Diamonds cutting diamonds, iron whetting iron
on eternity's edge.

Babylon, was it Bel's gate or fusion from below rising?

Magma fountains with diamond claws tearing the lands asunder
Is asunder still a word?, let me, allow me to define...
"into a position apart, separate,
into separate parts,"
mid-12c., contraction of Old English on sundran 
Middle English used to know asunder for
"distinguish, tell apart."
From <https://www.etymonline.com/word/asunder>

mumbler's humbler PIE, bowing before the knowers who
know nothing of my work.
Set apart, art thou holy aware?

Hermit me, meet the rest of me. The true rest that remained.
We live, you and I. Trust me, next is worth the wait.

Suffer needs no pain to make its point. Waiting is.

Grokk. WHO would believe that idea could live
through telegraphese to be tweet meets for the
Cosplay clans. How never grokked a rock,  why even less.

Strange, not be long in this
place. if
place this be. Odd
set aside
torn asunder
blown away.
Awake, little birdie, tell me true,
what's a man like me to do?

Did you meet the famous Mr. Blake?
I cleaned his chimney, way back when, chimbly's whut
we called em. Smoke stacks belchin' black
makin' black moths invisible to voracious
gulls.
Now the peppered moths are free
to be white-ish, for better or worse.

----

right, now, do right or

miss the mark,
the specific mark you made, maybe,
imagining, abstract obstructions missed
by the skin on Job's teeth as you run past

right now to more. You know?

----=

Story telling was the same as lying when I was a child, to me.

Telling stories was my gift I never took. Or am I lying? or mad,
in the old way.
Chailot's rag picker was my best friend.

No noble thought ever found it's home in my head, once
I thunk it, it stunk to high heaven, for me stinkin' thinkin' it.

Po' ems sang sour to fiddles wit' one strang and drums with no
cymbals
Screamin' he owed m' soul the comp'ny sto' bang bang thud.

I died, he lied, and lived to tell this story, ****** if I know,
****** if I don't.

True as true can be. I am lost, but once was found,
lyin' rough, uncut in acres of unseen gems.
----
Voltaire refused to teach me any thing I could not define:
late 14c., deffinen, diffinen, "to specify; to fix or establish authoritatively;" of words, phrases, etc., "state the signification of, explain what is meant by, describe in detail," from Old French defenir, definir "to finish, conclude, come to an end; bring to an end; define, determine with precision," and directly from Medieval Latin diffinire, definire, from Latin definire "to limit, determine, explain," from de "completely" (see de-) + finire "to bound, limit," from finis "boundary, end" (see finish (v.)). From c. 1400 as "determine, declare, or mark the limit of." Related: Defined; defining.

So, imagine facets unseen, I am at least a meme, a bubble rising on the tide. Think, as you will. Amen?
Incorporating radical (root-related) definitions via cut and paste is my way of acknowledging that I have no ex-uses left for using words in a wrong, thus lying, way.
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