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"odious" poems
I met a friend today His name was Death He smiled big with pure white teeth And minty fresh breath I asked him what he did for a living Staring blankly at me, batting his eyelashes He did the opposite of giving What did that mean? But the closer I got to Death The better I understood his scheme In his sharp black suit he won me over I felt an irresistible draw Like to a diamond in the rough, or a four leaf clover He convinced me of the beauty in the night That when the moon was hidden from view There was nothing better than the lack of light He led me from my lust for life Sang to me in my sleep Whispered sweet nothings and handed me the knife I tried to pull away from my newly found friend But his choke hold was so tight On him I started to depend The world could see me deteriorate into nothing He held me harder and closer With shortness of breath I stood huffing and puffing Enclosed in the lackluster of our friendship I became numb The emotions drifted with my vitality I tried to retrieve them but could only attain 1/5th of my former sum The more time you spend with a person The more you become like them I suppose I couldn't see the situation worsen Collar around my neck he leashed me like a dog I cared so deeply for him My haze filled mind ignored the dense fog I came to terms with my life long trap Death circled like a satellite around my position No matter where I went he found my place on the map Eventually I succame to this fate Despite his control Death, I could not hate I loved him too dearly to notice the signs I couldn't think clearly His presence was odious and it wasn't benign
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Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 11:25 PM UTC
Death
I met a friend today His name was Death He smiled big with pure white teeth And minty fresh breath I asked him what he did for a living Staring blankly at me, batting his eyelashes He did the opposite of giving What did that mean? But the closer I got to Death The better I understood his scheme In his sharp black suit he won me over I felt an irresistible draw Like to a diamond in the rough, or a four leaf clover He convinced me of the beauty in the night That when the moon was hidden from view There was nothing better than the lack of light He led me from my lust for life Sang to me in my sleep Whispered sweet nothings and handed me the knife I tried to pull away from my newly found friend But his choke hold was so tight On him I started to depend The world could see me deteriorate into nothing He held me harder and closer With shortness of breath I stood huffing and puffing Enclosed in the lackluster of our friendship I became numb The emotions drifted with my vitality I tried to retrieve them but could only attain 1/5th of my former sum The more time you spend with a person The more you become like them I suppose I couldn't see the situation worsen Collar around my neck he leashed me like a dog I cared so deeply for him My haze filled mind ignored the dense fog I came to terms with my life long trap Death circled like a satellite around my position No matter where I went he found my place on the map Eventually I succame to this fate Despite his control Death, I could not hate I loved him too dearly to notice the signs I couldn't think clearly His presence was odious and it wasn't benign
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43
Are you struck with her figure and face? How lucky you happened to meet With none of the gossiping race, Who dwell in this horrible street! They of slanderous hints never tire; I love to approve and commend, And the lady you so much admire, Is my very particular friend! How charming she looks — her dark curls Really float with a natural air; And the beads might be taken for pearls, That arc twined in that beautiful hair: Then what tints her fair features o'erspread - That she uses white paint some pretend; But, believe me, she only wears red She's my very particular friend! Then her voice, how divine it appears While carolling: "Rise gentle moon;" Lord Crotchet lastnight stopped his ears, And declared that she sung out of tune; For my part, I think that her lay Might to Malibran's sweetness pretend; But people won't mind what I say — I'm her very particular friend! Then her writings — her exquisite rhyme To posterity surely must reach; (I wonder she finds so much time With four little sisters to teach!) A critic in Blackwood, indeed. Abused the last poem she penned; The article made my heart bleed — She's my very particular friend! Her brother dispatched with a sword, His friend in a duel, last June; And her cousin eloped from her lord, With a handsome and whiskered dragoon: Her father with duns is beset, Yet continues to dash and to spend — She's too good for so worthless a set — She's my very particular friend! All her chance of a portion is lost, And I fear she'll be single for life; Wise people will count up the cost Of a gay and extravagant wife: But tis odious to marry for pelf, (Though the times are not likely to mend,) She's a fortune besides in herself — She's my very particular friend! That she's somewhat sarcastic and pert, It were useless and vain to deny; She's a little too much of a flirt, And a slattern when no one is by: From her servants she constantly parts, Before they have reached the year's end; But her heart is the kindest of hearts — She's my very particular friend! Oh! never have pencil or pen, A creature more exquisite traced; That her style does not take with the men, Proves a sad want of judgment and taste; And if to the sketch I give now, Some flattering touches I lend; Do for partial affection allow — She's my very particular friend!
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15.3k
My Very Particular Friend
Are you struck with her figure and face? How lucky you happened to meet With none of the gossiping race, Who dwell in this horrible street! They of slanderous hints never tire; I love to approve and commend, And the lady you so much admire, Is my very particular friend! How charming she looks — her dark curls Really float with a natural air; And the beads might be taken for pearls, That arc twined in that beautiful hair: Then what tints her fair features o'erspread - That she uses white paint some pretend; But, believe me, she only wears red She's my very particular friend! Then her voice, how divine it appears While carolling: "Rise gentle moon;" Lord Crotchet lastnight stopped his ears, And declared that she sung out of tune; For my part, I think that her lay Might to Malibran's sweetness pretend; But people won't mind what I say — I'm her very particular friend! Then her writings — her exquisite rhyme To posterity surely must reach; (I wonder she finds so much time With four little sisters to teach!) A critic in Blackwood, indeed. Abused the last poem she penned; The article made my heart bleed — She's my very particular friend! Her brother dispatched with a sword, His friend in a duel, last June; And her cousin eloped from her lord, With a handsome and whiskered dragoon: Her father with duns is beset, Yet continues to dash and to spend — She's too good for so worthless a set — She's my very particular friend! All her chance of a portion is lost, And I fear she'll be single for life; Wise people will count up the cost Of a gay and extravagant wife: But tis odious to marry for pelf, (Though the times are not likely to mend,) She's a fortune besides in herself — She's my very particular friend! That she's somewhat sarcastic and pert, It were useless and vain to deny; She's a little too much of a flirt, And a slattern when no one is by: From her servants she constantly parts, Before they have reached the year's end; But her heart is the kindest of hearts — She's my very particular friend! Oh! never have pencil or pen, A creature more exquisite traced; That her style does not take with the men, Proves a sad want of judgment and taste; And if to the sketch I give now, Some flattering touches I lend; Do for partial affection allow — She's my very particular friend!
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Ornery odious ordinate ostensive opulence ornate optimal Motivity meatus meticulous morsel moribund mendacity monstrance Lucidity lingam loquacity longevous licentious lurid languishing Votary volition verve venery vector vauntness vast Talismanically telepathy tantamount terrestrial tellurian transition tractive Idolatry -ics incus ictus ichor icon icky Yogi yowl yore yoni yerk yenta yantra Gimpy gesticulation genre gestational glitch genuflection grandiose Dastardly douceur denouement denigrational deplorable despicable desperate Paltry potentate portentous plagiaristic pandemic plenipotentiary plenary Jouncy jocular jeopardy jettison jurisprudence jaunt juxtaposition Ramify repartee radix recital rectitude rendition repertoire Beastly bartizan bodacious belligerent brusque blatant blasphemously Enmity exigency exacerbation extemporaneous edifice eulogy exoneration Zoolatry zoomorphic zilch Zephyr zoic zygosity zealotry Sultry solace subtlety substantiation suborn subliminal sensorium Unity ultimatum usurping unfathomable uncanny unbridled unary ***** hornswoggle horizon huckster homogeny holistic heuristic Nugatory notch nostrum notorious nihilism nimiety nimbus Wrathy wreak wroth wrought wrest wrangle warranty Artistry autonomy articulation agility acuity asperity acerbity Keeky kangaroo court kowtow kobold kleptomania kinetics kinesiology Xylography xenophile xerophilous xylophagous xylem xanadu xenobiotic Critically credibility critique coercion conjugational conjunctive corporeal Queasy quasi quantum quintessence quagmire quixotic quantify Flighty flippant flamboyance faux pas fornicatious fictitious finite
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Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
Iconoclasm
Ornery odious ordinate ostensive opulence ornate optimal Motivity meatus meticulous morsel moribund mendacity monstrance Lucidity lingam loquacity longevous licentious lurid languishing Votary volition verve venery vector vauntness vast Talismanically telepathy tantamount terrestrial tellurian transition tractive Idolatry -ics incus ictus ichor icon icky Yogi yowl yore yoni yerk yenta yantra Gimpy gesticulation genre gestational glitch genuflection grandiose Dastardly douceur denouement denigrational deplorable despicable desperate Paltry potentate portentous plagiaristic pandemic plenipotentiary plenary Jouncy jocular jeopardy jettison jurisprudence jaunt juxtaposition Ramify repartee radix recital rectitude rendition repertoire Beastly bartizan bodacious belligerent brusque blatant blasphemously Enmity exigency exacerbation extemporaneous edifice eulogy exoneration Zoolatry zoomorphic zilch Zephyr zoic zygosity zealotry Sultry solace subtlety substantiation suborn subliminal sensorium Unity ultimatum usurping unfathomable uncanny unbridled unary ***** hornswoggle horizon huckster homogeny holistic heuristic Nugatory notch nostrum notorious nihilism nimiety nimbus Wrathy wreak wroth wrought wrest wrangle warranty Artistry autonomy articulation agility acuity asperity acerbity Keeky kangaroo court kowtow kobold kleptomania kinetics kinesiology Xylography xenophile xerophilous xylophagous xylem xanadu xenobiotic Critically credibility critique coercion conjugational conjunctive corporeal Queasy quasi quantum quintessence quagmire quixotic quantify Flighty flippant flamboyance faux pas fornicatious fictitious finite
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Finite fictitious fornicatious faux pas flamboyance flippant flighty Quantify quixotic quagmire quintessence quantum quasi queasy Corporeal conjunctive conjugational coercion critique credibility critically Xenobiotic xanadu xylem xylophagous xerophilous xenophile xylography Kinesiology kinetics kleptomania kobold kowtow kangaroo court keeky             Acerbity asperity acuity agility articulation autonomy artistry Warranty wrangle wrest wrought wroth wreak wrathy Nimbus nimiety nihilism notorious nostrum notch nugatory Heuristic holistic homogeny huckster horizon hornswoggle ***** Unary unbridled uncanny unfathomable usurping ultimatum unity Sensorium subliminal suborn substantiation subtlety solace sultry Zealotry zygosity zoic Zephyr zilch  zoomorphic  zoolatry Exoneration eulogy edifice extemporaneous exaserbational exigency enmity Blasphemously blatant brusque belligerent bodacious bartizan beastly Repertoire rendition rectitude recital radix repartee ramify Juxtaposition jaunt jurisprudence jettison jeopardy jocular jouncy Plenary plenipotentiary pandemic plagiaristic portentous potentate paltry                      Desperate despicable deplorable denigrational denouement douceur dastardly Grandiose genuflection glitch gestational genre gesticulation gimpy Yantra yenta yerk yoni yore yowl yogi Icky icon ichor ictus incus -ics idolatry Tractive transition tellurian terrestrial tantamount telepathy talismanically Vast vauntness vector venery verve volition votary Languishing lurid licentious longevous loquacity lingam lucidity                                 Monstrance mendacity moribund morsel meticulous meatus motivity Optimal ornate opulence ostensive ordinate odious ornery
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Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
Iconoclasm Epithet
Finite fictitious fornicatious faux pas flamboyance flippant flighty Quantify quixotic quagmire quintessence quantum quasi queasy Corporeal conjunctive conjugational coercion critique credibility critically Xenobiotic xanadu xylem xylophagous xerophilous xenophile xylography Kinesiology kinetics kleptomania kobold kowtow kangaroo court keeky             Acerbity asperity acuity agility articulation autonomy artistry Warranty wrangle wrest wrought wroth wreak wrathy Nimbus nimiety nihilism notorious nostrum notch nugatory Heuristic holistic homogeny huckster horizon hornswoggle ***** Unary unbridled uncanny unfathomable usurping ultimatum unity Sensorium subliminal suborn substantiation subtlety solace sultry Zealotry zygosity zoic Zephyr zilch  zoomorphic  zoolatry Exoneration eulogy edifice extemporaneous exaserbational exigency enmity Blasphemously blatant brusque belligerent bodacious bartizan beastly Repertoire rendition rectitude recital radix repartee ramify Juxtaposition jaunt jurisprudence jettison jeopardy jocular jouncy Plenary plenipotentiary pandemic plagiaristic portentous potentate paltry                      Desperate despicable deplorable denigrational denouement douceur dastardly Grandiose genuflection glitch gestational genre gesticulation gimpy Yantra yenta yerk yoni yore yowl yogi Icky icon ichor ictus incus -ics idolatry Tractive transition tellurian terrestrial tantamount telepathy talismanically Vast vauntness vector venery verve volition votary Languishing lurid licentious longevous loquacity lingam lucidity                                 Monstrance mendacity moribund morsel meticulous meatus motivity Optimal ornate opulence ostensive ordinate odious ornery
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The lightning came so suddenly Along with odious hail The lightning shot right into me and I was smitten by the gale The storm of storms then, to me was sworn Forever holds this young sailors soul To share with me both love and scorn And tend to my fire, with rain so cold And till this day though the storm has past To rage upon some other’s shore Still I hear the thunder’s clash And yearn for the cataclysmic roar I’ll never forget the beautiful storms eye I’ll always be lost in those terrified eyes
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Jul 13, 2010
Jul 13, 2010 at 2:47 AM UTC
The Storm Sonnet
Crocodiles catnapping cuddling in cordial cliques,  Loafing, lollygagging, lurking low like lounging leeches,  Protective postures pouncing prey with piercing pinned precision, Brilliant belligerent beasts basking boldly by swamp beaches,  Agressively angry attitudes among alluring adverse animals,  Deep daunting jaws of death damage drastically when dropping down,  Scales shaped like stabbing shards scrape while swimming strongly,  Opposing opposition order obedience of outrageous odious opponents,  Raged ravenous rapacious reptiles rank repulsive ratings and resourses...   ©Michael P. Smith
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
Crocodilian Analysis (Tongue Twister)
Certain men may be pigs, and maybe some feminists take it a bit far, but when it comes to sexism, I certainly don't think it's restricted to *** and when it comes to racism: there's no such thing as race. Far too many **** Sapiens are just ******* vapid and odious when it comes to their personality, in general. It doesn't matter if the narrative is One's *** or religion, politics, perceived gender, art, science, the weather or any other elite form of edified philosophy. I want to believe that everyone has merit- that they cannot be judged by any external entity that, because it is external, lacks the whole context. Still, some people spoil my attitude towards people a bit. Humans are my favorite counter-example; yet, I love us. Somehow. Jaded though I may well be, I seek foremost to be kind, but that makes you a doormat. One seems to have two choices: be a push-over, or an ******* I seek the middle path: empathic and kind, but also self-interested. ..something of a "passive-assertive" person. Returning to the point: I'm just an equalist, I guess. Egalitarian. Individualist. Sexism? Racism? Nationalism? Why the **** is it even an issue? Haven't we grown up at all in the last 10,000 years? If someone's skin color, chromosomal composition, language, wealth, ethnicity, or where on Earth they happened to be born is that big of an issue to you psychologically and socially, there are much bigger problems going unchecked boiling over within you. The abandoned kettle whistles. Good luck. Earnestly. We're all counting on you. People are people. Worry about yourself and what and who you love.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
A Rant named 'Tolerance'
Certain men may be pigs, and maybe some feminists take it a bit far, but when it comes to sexism, I certainly don't think it's restricted to *** and when it comes to racism: there's no such thing as race. Far too many **** Sapiens are just ******* vapid and odious when it comes to their personality, in general. It doesn't matter if the narrative is One's *** or religion, politics, perceived gender, art, science, the weather or any other elite form of edified philosophy. I want to believe that everyone has merit- that they cannot be judged by any external entity that, because it is external, lacks the whole context. Still, some people spoil my attitude towards people a bit. Humans are my favorite counter-example; yet, I love us. Somehow. Jaded though I may well be, I seek foremost to be kind, but that makes you a doormat. One seems to have two choices: be a push-over, or an ******* I seek the middle path: empathic and kind, but also self-interested. ..something of a "passive-assertive" person. Returning to the point: I'm just an equalist, I guess. Egalitarian. Individualist. Sexism? Racism? Nationalism? Why the **** is it even an issue? Haven't we grown up at all in the last 10,000 years? If someone's skin color, chromosomal composition, language, wealth, ethnicity, or where on Earth they happened to be born is that big of an issue to you psychologically and socially, there are much bigger problems going unchecked boiling over within you. The abandoned kettle whistles. Good luck. Earnestly. We're all counting on you. People are people. Worry about yourself and what and who you love.
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26
A woman who dies in labour, In the pains of pre-delivery For no reason but poor midwifery Is a martyr and a true martyr Than religious charlatans, For she has only died in heroic Defense of life and its perpetuation, She is better than you the user Of contraceptives in odious fit of Family planning frivolity, With condoms and the stuffs Weapons of your ****** war, She is a true martyr To allow live sperms to meander The valleys and fountains of life Without dodging them shrewdly Through wiles of science and tech, Sperms and ova when in a duel they are God’s intent of life, and human lives Alack, suffocating them is heinous A sin as big as murderer Or a terrorism of the Twin towers Or a **** agent armed with gas poison, Let them, the sperms enter the walls of life, Minus fear of deathly virus, let them enter, They intent to give life naturally, Godly, And if they have Aids, then you are A martyr who died in support of life Against the wiles of the evil one, You are better than him that Masturbates to waste the ***** Of life, God’s grand purpose of Them to be the first stations of life, You **** them, you commit ****** Genocide, massacre, macabre,
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Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
She is a martyr that dies in labour
Three-legged spider on a ***** tile Eyeball rolls, clean in hand Massive metal door opens, up top a hill Graveyard of ever-ringing cells. What's real creepy to you? Enclose the city, lock us out ..for good Condemned as doomed, living dead Big guns survive in metallic domes See the crass ******** shoot us down! Wanna talk about what's creepy, huh? Plunderers now lay down new laws Can't fight the sick, red sway Random acts of violence bay Armoured eyes see all from lofty towers. Creepy autocrats hide the truth, right? No soaring when blood runs rivers Tripping over rotting corpses Decaying stench of hope dying Help will come, we must believe! Do you believe lies to your face? Infrastructure's down, no services Power's out, no more flushing Car carcasses aflame on every corner, yet How come big brother's eyes still move? Are the gullible ones really stupid and feeble? Sun shines, but nothing grows Rain seeps red away into sewers Crops of twisted metal, hoards of guns Skeletal trees adorn our landscape. Why hold askance your glance skyward? The gates will open to let us in Surely, they witness our hardship! There must exist a life beyond this strife Uproar, bombard, gas, artillery....then no more.... Can you ever cease to have temerity? In face of adversity, calamity and injustice We should NEVER cease to be exasperated! Hope must prevail; faith must live; Thoughts expressed; love and respect must survive. Can you afford your spirit just to let go....? Think about it. Creepy autocrats eternally rank ... Chronically..........Insidious Repressively........Deleterious Egotistically.........Inadequate Eruptively............Odious Pretentiously.......Tedious Yucky...................Scum! S T, 31 May 2013
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 10:30 AM UTC
Creepy Autocrat
Three-legged spider on a ***** tile Eyeball rolls, clean in hand Massive metal door opens, up top a hill Graveyard of ever-ringing cells. What's real creepy to you? Enclose the city, lock us out ..for good Condemned as doomed, living dead Big guns survive in metallic domes See the crass ******** shoot us down! Wanna talk about what's creepy, huh? Plunderers now lay down new laws Can't fight the sick, red sway Random acts of violence bay Armoured eyes see all from lofty towers. Creepy autocrats hide the truth, right? No soaring when blood runs rivers Tripping over rotting corpses Decaying stench of hope dying Help will come, we must believe! Do you believe lies to your face? Infrastructure's down, no services Power's out, no more flushing Car carcasses aflame on every corner, yet How come big brother's eyes still move? Are the gullible ones really stupid and feeble? Sun shines, but nothing grows Rain seeps red away into sewers Crops of twisted metal, hoards of guns Skeletal trees adorn our landscape. Why hold askance your glance skyward? The gates will open to let us in Surely, they witness our hardship! There must exist a life beyond this strife Uproar, bombard, gas, artillery....then no more.... Can you ever cease to have temerity? In face of adversity, calamity and injustice We should NEVER cease to be exasperated! Hope must prevail; faith must live; Thoughts expressed; love and respect must survive. Can you afford your spirit just to let go....? Think about it. Creepy autocrats eternally rank ... Chronically..........Insidious Repressively........Deleterious Egotistically.........Inadequate Eruptively............Odious Pretentiously.......Tedious Yucky...................Scum! S T, 31 May 2013
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Cleaning up my thoughts with some sleep, itemized & organized thanks to my dreams. Cleaning up my thoughts with a mornin' bath, last night's scents just never last. Cleaning up my thoughts from the fridge, uneaten words will be my nourishment. Cleaning up my thoughts from the trash, odious memories from the past. Cleaning up my thoughts in wash 'n dryer, to maintain color & getting brighter. Cleaning up my thoughts with some smoke, a lazy sunday daydream makes room for more. Cleaning up my thoughts when I take a walk , jogging with my brain so one day I can grokk. Cleaning up my thoughts with exercise, working out the muscles & the third eye. Cleaning up my thoughts through meditation, sending stress away & on a vacation.
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Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC
Clense
i want to be here for the ugly. the inopportune, the odious. moments when your back breaks from carrying a heavy load, when your heart bursts from the inside, when your tongue becomes toxic. i want to plant hydrangeas in the crevices of your spine, rose bushes in your heart, peonies in your mouth, so that when nurtured, you are able to stand, able to love, able to speak of yourself splendidly. know that this is never ending. know that even when my hands grow weary, and my knees become scabbed and dirt- covered, i will happily wipe the sweat from my aching brow and tend to you. because all of the ugly, the inopportune, the odious, will be forgotten, the moment you begin to blossom.
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
hydrangeas.
But such people- the mighty, the powerful the rich, the pseudo- intellectual the influential are the most odious what **** sapiens? they are the mal-products of evolution who bring shame to the human race in their inhumanity bullies narcissists items of assorted pathology but they can't see- ' We are the authority and can't do wrong'. In the newspapers they are the centre-piece their pride oozes from their every paw but time brings down even the mightiest and such people end up as discarded old newspapers in the dust-bin of history where they belong so appropriately.
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Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 6:19 PM UTC
DISCARDED OLD NEWSPAPERS*
I look down at my feet, toes adorned with chipped nail varnish, a pitiful plaster clinging to the sole, and I grimace at the purple marks, reddening blisters, cicatrices of stories long forgotten. The ***** of my feet are thin and worn, my heels rubbed raw from shoes I have loved and shoes I have detested, faded scars from childhood accidents. I have aged hating my feet, the discoloured skin, dotted with odious callouses, my throbbing, wrinkled soles. They have grown with me, from tiny clumps unrecognisable as a foetus, to wide, long size 7s. My toes are misshapen, twisting this way and that, freckled with sun kisses from foreign countries. They’ve been battered and bruised repeatedly, victims of my hurtling abuse and mortal neglect. I have punished them with verruca socks and freezing ointments, pin ****** small shoes, razor blades, nail clippers and not once have I nurtured them, soaked them with praise. These feet have walked me up mountains, aided me in athletic championships, withstood six inch heels on weekends, ran me through marathons, enduring my never-ending physical torment and though they may buckle, with weeping blisters and aching pains, dry skin, broken bones and sprained ankles, they will recover, rebuilding the scabrous skin. Regardless of how unstable my life may become in later years, whether I am stranded on a deserted island, or walking the ***** streets of the city, no room to call my own, my feet will always, undoubtedly, lead me to safety. And when I am old and withered, an exhausted heap of human life, with my last dying breath, I will thank my durable, reliable feet.
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
My Feet and I
I look down at my feet, toes adorned with chipped nail varnish, a pitiful plaster clinging to the sole, and I grimace at the purple marks, reddening blisters, cicatrices of stories long forgotten. The ***** of my feet are thin and worn, my heels rubbed raw from shoes I have loved and shoes I have detested, faded scars from childhood accidents. I have aged hating my feet, the discoloured skin, dotted with odious callouses, my throbbing, wrinkled soles. They have grown with me, from tiny clumps unrecognisable as a foetus, to wide, long size 7s. My toes are misshapen, twisting this way and that, freckled with sun kisses from foreign countries. They’ve been battered and bruised repeatedly, victims of my hurtling abuse and mortal neglect. I have punished them with verruca socks and freezing ointments, pin ****** small shoes, razor blades, nail clippers and not once have I nurtured them, soaked them with praise. These feet have walked me up mountains, aided me in athletic championships, withstood six inch heels on weekends, ran me through marathons, enduring my never-ending physical torment and though they may buckle, with weeping blisters and aching pains, dry skin, broken bones and sprained ankles, they will recover, rebuilding the scabrous skin. Regardless of how unstable my life may become in later years, whether I am stranded on a deserted island, or walking the ***** streets of the city, no room to call my own, my feet will always, undoubtedly, lead me to safety. And when I am old and withered, an exhausted heap of human life, with my last dying breath, I will thank my durable, reliable feet.
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The Rent-a-Mob loonies, the gangsters and the Racists damaged scums of society and contemporary politics Ignorant arrogant sociopaths who want it all for nothing Indulgent wasters in nation awashed with opportunities In idle union they scream, feed us poor and **** the Rich Strangers come Poland, Bulgaria, India and all over to work in farms, hospitals, hotels and Constructions Building futures and faring in endeavours with sweat Crimson gangs and Renta Mobs states we serve nobody **** the wealth makers, **** the parasites and let's drink Our shyster gangs of Revo-comrades and malcontents See killing fields, whereas strangers toil and find rich pickings Our Revos Distract, confuse, sow seeds of dissent, make strife Blame all others, lie and decieve, fling indulgent political turds Rent brainwashed Mobs,into ***** bridgard to do their ***** work We all know life is unfair and even roses have imperfections Some are born to riches in spades and some born to beggars in dusts Those with time, sit and ask God why, just a fact of life to accept But from dust has risen billionaires, whilst riches have made duds Insane Crimson sits in spurious guise and odious fallacy playing God Yeh, **** the Rich and feed the poor, why hide and use Rent a mob Why not air your case in broad daylight and stand your conviction The coward you are knows it hold no sanity for those with sense Except for thieves, the workshy and wasters who cheat to survive In your city of merits aplenty, Revo-crimson is beneath contempt
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Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
Rent-a-Mob fable of Fallacy..........
The Rent-a-Mob loonies, the gangsters and the Racists damaged scums of society and contemporary politics Ignorant arrogant sociopaths who want it all for nothing Indulgent wasters in nation awashed with opportunities In idle union they scream, feed us poor and **** the Rich Strangers come Poland, Bulgaria, India and all over to work in farms, hospitals, hotels and Constructions Building futures and faring in endeavours with sweat Crimson gangs and Renta Mobs states we serve nobody **** the wealth makers, **** the parasites and let's drink Our shyster gangs of Revo-comrades and malcontents See killing fields, whereas strangers toil and find rich pickings Our Revos Distract, confuse, sow seeds of dissent, make strife Blame all others, lie and decieve, fling indulgent political turds Rent brainwashed Mobs,into ***** bridgard to do their ***** work We all know life is unfair and even roses have imperfections Some are born to riches in spades and some born to beggars in dusts Those with time, sit and ask God why, just a fact of life to accept But from dust has risen billionaires, whilst riches have made duds Insane Crimson sits in spurious guise and odious fallacy playing God Yeh, **** the Rich and feed the poor, why hide and use Rent a mob Why not air your case in broad daylight and stand your conviction The coward you are knows it hold no sanity for those with sense Except for thieves, the workshy and wasters who cheat to survive In your city of merits aplenty, Revo-crimson is beneath contempt
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25
Obscure is an understatement on how my nonsensical(s) joined squadron I’ve taken nightly dips into an odious filled pool Breaking the bonds and ties that outline the ripples waning opprobrious schemes These livid moments of trauma events clash into the shallow reef Orthodoxes lost abroad the endless natatorium The chlorine punctures green hints that double in risk Maligning my skin of stained memoir, tisk tisk
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Dec 12, 2010
Dec 12, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC
Pool of A Scandal Self Image
I stared catatonic nonstop and could not pull my eyes away or scream except for the great internal scream and I felt like death was upon me, or nearly so. And my body asleep but my mind twisted and my eyes awake wide-open and no dream this was but real things and then my thoughts put outward and all these things terrible formed into death-shadows and flowed down through the fabrics above my head. 

 Flesh undulating in darkness that creeped and I found ten seconds of courage to sit up and stare at the wall as the rippling fabric became a thousand black snakes crawling down from the ceiling and out from my dreamcatcher that did nothing at all but release these terrors from the wall. And I thought it was sordid wind that came in gusting through my window that made my sheets become like a mechanical sea but it was not so, and these vile snakes poured out like ***** from some gaping maw above and went underneath my bed and all through the floor to the four corners of my room and then came together again above on the center of my ceiling and murmured death-talk and horror-faces from the walls and ceiling and even closing my eyes would bring nothing but flashes of demonic children and things with no jaws or eyes hollowed out and terrible ghosts I procured and almost choked out laughter because this was it and I've finally gone and gone mad 

There was a man at my closed door wearing my jacket that hung on a hook and his face was the face of a skull that hung above my door and from the corner of my eye the man with the door on his back with the coat still attached walked with silent step toward my bed, and I turned to look at this figure and instead of snapping back against the wall like all nightly visions should; he stood there, and as I stared at him I saw slow moving black legs receding against the wall but the horrors of his feet were ten thousand worm bodies and black leathery fingers of bats and crawling things and my carpet floor was no longer static but a creeping madness, and my body trembled as if it were being continuously dropped from heights a hundred times over and great odious black pillars and monoliths slid steadily up the corners of my room with arms that then burst out to the middle into nothing but a smiling cheshire grin and I could not move anymore and just stared until my mind went numb and like the first sunlight upon the last fog before dawn, I awoke.
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Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
The Terror in the Wall
I stared catatonic nonstop and could not pull my eyes away or scream except for the great internal scream and I felt like death was upon me, or nearly so. And my body asleep but my mind twisted and my eyes awake wide-open and no dream this was but real things and then my thoughts put outward and all these things terrible formed into death-shadows and flowed down through the fabrics above my head. 

 Flesh undulating in darkness that creeped and I found ten seconds of courage to sit up and stare at the wall as the rippling fabric became a thousand black snakes crawling down from the ceiling and out from my dreamcatcher that did nothing at all but release these terrors from the wall. And I thought it was sordid wind that came in gusting through my window that made my sheets become like a mechanical sea but it was not so, and these vile snakes poured out like ***** from some gaping maw above and went underneath my bed and all through the floor to the four corners of my room and then came together again above on the center of my ceiling and murmured death-talk and horror-faces from the walls and ceiling and even closing my eyes would bring nothing but flashes of demonic children and things with no jaws or eyes hollowed out and terrible ghosts I procured and almost choked out laughter because this was it and I've finally gone and gone mad 

There was a man at my closed door wearing my jacket that hung on a hook and his face was the face of a skull that hung above my door and from the corner of my eye the man with the door on his back with the coat still attached walked with silent step toward my bed, and I turned to look at this figure and instead of snapping back against the wall like all nightly visions should; he stood there, and as I stared at him I saw slow moving black legs receding against the wall but the horrors of his feet were ten thousand worm bodies and black leathery fingers of bats and crawling things and my carpet floor was no longer static but a creeping madness, and my body trembled as if it were being continuously dropped from heights a hundred times over and great odious black pillars and monoliths slid steadily up the corners of my room with arms that then burst out to the middle into nothing but a smiling cheshire grin and I could not move anymore and just stared until my mind went numb and like the first sunlight upon the last fog before dawn, I awoke.
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33
troglo-what? look it up, those who do not know the word   for I am a lover of words   obscure exotic esoteric poetic pedantic petty greasy slimy odoriferous clanking cacophonous melodious odious arcane archaic all a primal pleasure to hear, to write, to read when perched in the right order and place to take flight and allow me to soar above or hide below   the massed multitudes of monkeys who share my deoxyribonucleic acid (and you thought I would simply say, DNA)   for they find solace in the day shared with simian soul mates but I, the true troglodyte of Texas prefer the singular scent of words on trackless trails over the sound of lovers and their breathless tales
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Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
a troglodyte in Texas
My love, your eyes are nothing like the sun, your long lasting gaze is dull and dazed, as for intelligence; you possess none and you leave me annoyed and unamazed. The way you make me feel is disgusting, sandpaper is smoother than your skin, and I just can't stand to hear you laughing, when all good humour you've forsaken. You are oblivious and selfish too, and you know I use this odious tone my dear because I truely detest you! so go now please and leave me alone, Take your coiffed hair, and your crooked nose go **** yourself and your asinine hoes!
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Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 11:24 PM UTC
Chasing a Runaway Thought....
The breeze whispered, as if it understood my musings. I felt as if I was pampered, by the whole of universe. How odious is it to feel so low? to be dejected at each occurrence of epiphany; Why can't all realize the beauty of a rainbow? Aren't we made to bathe in uniqueness?
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Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 1:07 PM UTC
Appreciating the uniqueness
If a tale need be tattled, the snawky Snawk would arise. With its snickley tongue of arsenic blue, and loathsome gamboge eyes. To the King of the stickley Snicklers, the Snawk would spill his talk. But scuttlebutt was all t'was, for he was but a snawky Snawk. Might you ask who am I be? I am a jawky Jawk who talks incessantly of the snawky Snawk, with his snickley tongue, and his breath of kyarn, and Beelzebub dung. You see I knows of him all too well and well he knows of me. Invidious brothers, one of the other, same Mother both have we. Now the snawky Snawk spins yarns so dark and thick and odious. One might find his fatuous canards to be though flatulent, commodious. But If ye be a gawky Gawk of the snawky Snawk beware, For his loathsome camboge eyes can squinny a ribald stare. To your knees his gaze will bring you, you'll tell all the tales you know. Then he'll tattle them to the Snickler King and off to the headsman you will go. That is, unless, you know the ballad the Snawk is most offended by. 'bout the frowzy blowzy stable boy with only just one eye. He lost his eye in a snickering match twixt The Snickley King and he. But got the best of the old nabob, for he could cachinnate you see. He did cachinnate and aggravate, till the old King did concede. The stable boy was the better of the two, his tongue cut like a snickersnee. For the frowzy blowzy stable boy was not able to tell a lie, nor could he mince his words with honey, of the truth he could not hide. And if one day you find yourself in the land of the quidnunc kith. Shun the snickley Snicklers, and their sniggering King forthwith. But if ye meet up with the stable boy though untidy he may be. Dare not tattle of a soul, he'll let fly his snickersnee. And remember well, the ballad he sings, of the King he did do down. Drink in its waspy strain and keep it nigh, lest the snawky Snawk cometh 'round.
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Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 8:33 PM UTC
A Tattle Tale
If a tale need be tattled, the snawky Snawk would arise. With its snickley tongue of arsenic blue, and loathsome gamboge eyes. To the King of the stickley Snicklers, the Snawk would spill his talk. But scuttlebutt was all t'was, for he was but a snawky Snawk. Might you ask who am I be? I am a jawky Jawk who talks incessantly of the snawky Snawk, with his snickley tongue, and his breath of kyarn, and Beelzebub dung. You see I knows of him all too well and well he knows of me. Invidious brothers, one of the other, same Mother both have we. Now the snawky Snawk spins yarns so dark and thick and odious. One might find his fatuous canards to be though flatulent, commodious. But If ye be a gawky Gawk of the snawky Snawk beware, For his loathsome camboge eyes can squinny a ribald stare. To your knees his gaze will bring you, you'll tell all the tales you know. Then he'll tattle them to the Snickler King and off to the headsman you will go. That is, unless, you know the ballad the Snawk is most offended by. 'bout the frowzy blowzy stable boy with only just one eye. He lost his eye in a snickering match twixt The Snickley King and he. But got the best of the old nabob, for he could cachinnate you see. He did cachinnate and aggravate, till the old King did concede. The stable boy was the better of the two, his tongue cut like a snickersnee. For the frowzy blowzy stable boy was not able to tell a lie, nor could he mince his words with honey, of the truth he could not hide. And if one day you find yourself in the land of the quidnunc kith. Shun the snickley Snicklers, and their sniggering King forthwith. But if ye meet up with the stable boy though untidy he may be. Dare not tattle of a soul, he'll let fly his snickersnee. And remember well, the ballad he sings, of the King he did do down. Drink in its waspy strain and keep it nigh, lest the snawky Snawk cometh 'round.
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60
Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Heart my got broken , knavery when played they all. I also did some trick, waggery did, made them fall. Soul my knocks now, and making me feel shy. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. I was fragile , shaky and suffering over last. Used to compete with them whosoever growing fast. Now that fear is over, seldom  now I vie. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. I let them laugh at me, who having envious heart. I let them mock at me, am accepting odious **** Malice brings no peace in me, not making such a try. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Wrong which they done to me, all have forgotten now, Only thing which yearn now, help all but when and how. In the land of hatred me, sowing peace and multiply. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Was bursting volcano then, now flowing river is me , Heat of that summer over, clouds pouring rains in me. Dirt of soul gone now, bade the evil good bye. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Venom of hatred receded, jealously no bitterness, Longing to assist someone, is there so eagerness. Sipping now drop of love, peace in me glorify. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Light of wisdom arrived, Night of ignorance gone. All my grief ended, joy in life has come. Riding at the peak of virtue, now I am flying high. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Now only truth here ,  no place for any lie. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Ajay Amitabh Suman Ajay Amitabh Suman
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Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 6:33 AM UTC
Peak of Virtue
Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Heart my got broken , knavery when played they all. I also did some trick, waggery did, made them fall. Soul my knocks now, and making me feel shy. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. I was fragile , shaky and suffering over last. Used to compete with them whosoever growing fast. Now that fear is over, seldom  now I vie. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. I let them laugh at me, who having envious heart. I let them mock at me, am accepting odious **** Malice brings no peace in me, not making such a try. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Wrong which they done to me, all have forgotten now, Only thing which yearn now, help all but when and how. In the land of hatred me, sowing peace and multiply. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Was bursting volcano then, now flowing river is me , Heat of that summer over, clouds pouring rains in me. Dirt of soul gone now, bade the evil good bye. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Venom of hatred receded, jealously no bitterness, Longing to assist someone, is there so eagerness. Sipping now drop of love, peace in me glorify. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Light of wisdom arrived, Night of ignorance gone. All my grief ended, joy in life has come. Riding at the peak of virtue, now I am flying high. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Now no conflict here and nothing is hue & cry. Now only truth here ,  no place for any lie. Diving I am deep into ocean of bliss O' thy, Ajay Amitabh Suman Ajay Amitabh Suman
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41
When on the sandy shore I sit, Beside the salt sea-wave, And fall into a weeping fit Because I dare not shave - A little whisper at my ear Enquires the reason of my fear. I answer "If that ruffian Jones Should recognise me here, He'd bellow out my name in tones Offensive to the ear: He chaffs me so on being stout (A thing that always puts me out)." Ah me! I see him on the cliff! Farewell, farewell to hope, If he should look this way, and if He's got his telescope! To whatsoever place I flee, My odious rival follows me! For every night, and everywhere, I meet him out at dinner; And when I've found some charming fair, And vowed to die or win her, The wretch (he's thin and I am stout) Is sure to come and cut me out! The girls (just like them!) all agree To praise J. Jones, Esquire: I ask them what on earth they see About him to admire? They cry "He is so sleek and slim, It's quite a treat to look at him!" They vanish in tobacco smoke, Those visionary maids - I feel a sharp and sudden poke Between the shoulder-blades - "Why, Brown, my boy! Your growing stout!" (I told you he would find me out!) "My growth is not YOUR business, Sir!" "No more it is, my boy! But if it's YOURS, as I infer, Why, Brown, I give you joy! A man, whose business prospers so, Is just the sort of man to know! "It's hardly safe, though, talking here - I'd best get out of reach: For such a weight as yours, I fear, Must shortly sink the beach!" - Insult me thus because I'm stout! I vow I'll go and call him out!
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2.1k
Size and Tears
When on the sandy shore I sit, Beside the salt sea-wave, And fall into a weeping fit Because I dare not shave - A little whisper at my ear Enquires the reason of my fear. I answer "If that ruffian Jones Should recognise me here, He'd bellow out my name in tones Offensive to the ear: He chaffs me so on being stout (A thing that always puts me out)." Ah me! I see him on the cliff! Farewell, farewell to hope, If he should look this way, and if He's got his telescope! To whatsoever place I flee, My odious rival follows me! For every night, and everywhere, I meet him out at dinner; And when I've found some charming fair, And vowed to die or win her, The wretch (he's thin and I am stout) Is sure to come and cut me out! The girls (just like them!) all agree To praise J. Jones, Esquire: I ask them what on earth they see About him to admire? They cry "He is so sleek and slim, It's quite a treat to look at him!" They vanish in tobacco smoke, Those visionary maids - I feel a sharp and sudden poke Between the shoulder-blades - "Why, Brown, my boy! Your growing stout!" (I told you he would find me out!) "My growth is not YOUR business, Sir!" "No more it is, my boy! But if it's YOURS, as I infer, Why, Brown, I give you joy! A man, whose business prospers so, Is just the sort of man to know! "It's hardly safe, though, talking here - I'd best get out of reach: For such a weight as yours, I fear, Must shortly sink the beach!" - Insult me thus because I'm stout! I vow I'll go and call him out!
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48
What went so wrong in your life to justify taking what is not yours? If you sincerely needed help and took the time to ask, help would come. But you insist on strife. It is you that I truly abhor. You insist upon waging war and I can assure that I am eager for battle. But I promise you, and it is such an easy task, return my property, my wings, my joy and your life may be restored. A full pardon. You are depraved, odious, and vile are you ready to fight?
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May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Ode to Bike Thieves