"ornery" poems
A few hours after midnight; the world is fast asleep.
Alone and cold do I wander. Like a nightmare do I creep.
With the intent of nothing I sit and watch the street.
It’s a week after Halloween and my shoes are on my feet.
I near my house, I think I’ll shave, (My chin has an itch.)
But at my feet upon the ground a color doesn’t fit;
Black on black with a spot of white doesn’t sit quite right.
You’d think they’d be more careful, ornery little gits.
Yet here at my feet, some candy lies plainly in my sight.
I stop to stare and wonder, and my brain does a nervous twitch.
So here I am; with a piece of candy that might have mange
Meanwhile my mind is discovering a whole new range
For all the pain we go through, to keep the world nice,
Nothing anyone does ever seems to pay the price.
I’ve got a new hybrid car, gets 50 to the gallon plus it’s electric.
And when I finish a snack trash is out the window. Are we epileptic?
I mean you’ve got to be kidding me, who can say that they are not
A miserable little hypocrite? World is full of betrayal and lies.
Filling with anger, righteous and hot, I feel a change in my soul.
I’ll be better! I’ll change the world or the two of us will sever ties!
The earth will follow my example and we’ll hold to higher goal.
Give me a few years and then lets see what we’ve got!
I hold onto the fantasy for a while, sad to let it slip.
But the truth does sink in and reality has a tighter grip.
Even if I spoke who would listen? One cry in a thousand’s not so great.
I’m not saying we shouldn’t try, to resign ourselves to our fate.
I’ve never been a pessimist, just a realistic optimist you understand.
If you want change, aim for what you can hold in your hand.
Think you can bring about world peace, think you’ve got the might?
Try to keep peace in your town, or your block, or home without a fight.
I stand and think to myself one more Sucker here and there,
Isn’t going to change a thing. If ten men vowed never to let themselves repeat
Their mistakes, the next day a chance would come, one would stand,
Nine would shudder and forsake him. Alone he’d return to his seat.
I step away and head home. I return my thoughts to the matters at hand.
Like my homework; a poem and some calc. I’ve still got to lose some ****** hair
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 4:52 PM UTC
*'Twould do any young person well to step into the muddy boots of a farmer for a spell . *** a field the whole day through , milk an ornery goat , pick a row of okra or two ..
Clean a hog pen , run the dogs at the crack of Dawn , build baskets and set tomato plants in the hot Georgia Sun ..
Pick your meal in the morning and eat it at dinner , cut firewood in the dead of Winter . It would most assuredly do a teenager well , yes it would*
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC
Beware if you don't want to get checked
I am a knightmare
A pawn when you step
My bishops are a big scare
Bishops are unsaintly
Slaying enemies daily
They sacrifice themselves for a higher cause
I'm playing out this game even though I get no applause
You're a novice when you play
I'm Sun Tzu at his best
That means my strategy can withstand the test
can subdue your mind
and in time you'll find
My thinking's not black or white
It's ornery
Never tip my king
Even if you corner me
The rooke is my home,
defense from those who prey on me
My queen is always loyal
Til the end she stays with me
Til the end she lays with me
My mate til mate
Your hand's reaching for the clock
but it's far too late
And so to end this rhyme let me slow the pace
And drop a heavy message in this empty space
Chess club is coming soon
You can learn to play
Room 285
Monday through Thursday
9th period!
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 9:34 PM UTC
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
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 5:31 AM UTC
I like cussin’
I even researched the word.
It ain’t cussin’
There’s an R that is not heard.
We’re talking of cursing,
The taking of God’s name in vain,
Back when it was blasphemy.
Those days will never come again.
It ain’t the same way
Like it was back in those times
When spitting on the sidewalk
Was a jailing crime
And black people had to walk
Down in the gutter.
There were words back then that
Decent folks didn’t utter.
Well, I ain’t religious.
I don’t go to any church at all.
It ain’t that I am evil;
I’m not riding for some fall.
But there are times
Like when you hammer your thumb
That saying “Oh fudge!”
Sounds just plain old **** dumb.
I am not sending
Anything or anyone here to hell.
It’s just helps
To say hell or **** or fuckaduck
When you have to yell.
A shuckydern don’t fit the bill like
A shouted ****
When you are ****** off, raving
Ready to spit.
I totally understand
That some words have a place.
Calling people ********
Can be seen as a huge disgrace.
But I still insist
That many times in a conversation
The word *******
Just fits the momentary occasion.
So, scoff if you will.
I’ll try to play by your nicey-nice rules,
But there are people
What are nothing but ******* fools.
I do hope you pardon
My not liking any more pleasant words
When someone says
The dumbest **** I have ever heard
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC
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
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 5:48 AM UTC
I was young when I learned to sing
to the rhythm of fists
flying through the air
like birds too angry
with the season to call.
I was young when I thought a tune
could drown the sounds
of my mother’s sobs
crashing through hallways
in tidal waves and monsoon misery.
I was young when I carved
songs in the wallpaper
and into my delicate skin.
I turned bruises into syncopated beats
and scars into major scales.
My stepfather hated music
but I was an ornery child,
and I sang of joyous things
just to see if his soul could dance,
but instead,
I got two left feet in swift kicks.
When I was was young I was afraid of sticks
because I thought my body was a drum
to be beaten and battered
to a punishing rhythm.
I was young when I learned
that the taste of blood on my lip
was merely the flicker before the intermission;
the finale would be a grand display
of pomp, punch, and unlucky circumstance.
My mother was a tone-deaf drunk
who never learned to sing.
She belted begging in B flat octaves
like it was the only note she knew.
She wept an ocean of sorrow
as I sang my S.O.S.
“God, save our sinking ship.”
“God, save our sinking souls.”
“God, save our sorry stepfather from himself.”
And when I thought to cry,
I sang my little heart out instead.
I sang of devil's meeting end,
and I sang of daughter's finding love,
and I sang of mother's finding
strength enough to leave,
and I sang to the happy families
that only existed in sitcoms,
because my stepfather hated music
but I hated him far more.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
Sterling eyes close the falling red ward
Big Brother has seen it all
He tells me: *there is danger
Terror past the massive, all-protecting Atlantic*
Don’t stray there, the mouth
of stumbling heads say,
They want to take away
Our safety, our ways, our Freedom
Mr. Elected reassures
*Nothing will harm you
Not with me going there
I don’t want you going there*
He speaks like my mom
Warning me of the illicits
I am too vulnerable to experience
It’s death I’ll go to- I’ve been told
Sleepless red monocular
Enlightening the air to a passive blue
It’s opacity beneath and above
Ascending again
Mama and Baba say it’s time to go home
I confront the arid peninsula of Qatar
Lungs accustomed, vitality not frozen
Precariously perceiving the harmful
Sentiments of years past in Jordan,
I wonder why
my kin would ban this place
Rumor on dirt pavement in a draft, ears picking up
*The Atlantic is not to be crossed,
A lack of morals, malintentions
lay beyond the scape.*
Extravagant grenade above,
Falling to the horizon
And no detonation, collapsing behind a curved veil
Skyward lay the remnants
Of heat, frozen in time
The lips in a box on this shoreside
Warn *the zephyrs from the ornery
Reaches towards our home
Be on guard of the deceitful
star at night that rains red*
Tomorrow may not be there
My blood brothers of Lebanon say,
But I wait, field of vision
aligned to the east
Aural stumbles translate, articulating
My brethren begin their search of food
And in too many moments unnoticed,
Black on bottom, red on the low, blue slowly suffocating the obscurity above
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 9:27 PM UTC
I ride higher
Than your suicides
You write:
Take me back,
I’m sweetly reminiscing of
Solar wings embracing
celestial winds
Sunsets of broken chords
Summer's shattered sword
Winter’s ornery
Jaded blue jays
Gray's vacant face
I salute your honesty
But blisters wrought on
A calloused heart
Cuts deeper
Than the oceans' void
Let me sleep whimsically
With rotten melodies
To keep me from
Changing the tone of
My stuttering dreams
But,
Soft, teeth speak
Like broken branches
On dilapidated trees
And
I’d spend
Eternity
In the chime of your
White fire voice
Or
Those olive green
Teasing eyes
Keeping me sheepishly serene
Whirling
Weaving
Into a timid peace
Yet our
Crashing
Tongues slam
Into sour Suns
Swallowing the seams
of interconnectivity
Scattering liquid beams
of entropy
I forget those days we
Wasted on the morbid
Memories
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 10:03 PM UTC
No clouds at all, winter, spring, summer or fall,
Tells the weather watcher no change at all,
Cirrus my friend with a fair weather bent,
Your swirls, streaks and curls, so very high,
when there are just a few of you, goodness is nigh,
but when you gaggle in bunches and take and
curl your lip to show your ornery sides and swirl in the cold,
I am told through the white and cold grey, BLIZZARD!
get in doors or receive a frosty reception.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC
A CLOWN IS...
A ~ one of a kind
C ~ CRAZY Clown
L ~ LAZY Clown
O ~ ORNERY or FUNNY Clown
W ~ WHITEFACED Clown
N ~ NONSENSICAL Clown
A Clown can make one happy
A Clown can look very sad
A Clown can be called Apple Annie
And wear an Apple on her head.
A Clown comes with many names
It depends on who they are.
There was a Hobo Clown named Emmett Kelly, Jr.
Who always made me sad,
for he wore old rags, and walked real slow,
But he wasn't very scary, for that I was real glad.
And then there was BOZO the clown
Whose horn he beeped, and beeped and beeped
At least he was a funny Clown,
He never wore a frown.
The scary one was Penneywise the dancing Clown
From the movie IT...
He was the scariest Clown I ever saw
Fingers real long, and he lived in a sewer.
Now since I love dancing, one would
think he was my favorite...for he was
called the dancing Clown.
But when he climbed out of the sewer,
and hid behind the doors,
Let me tell you folks,
I wasn't watching any more...
But let me add my favorite Clown
Her name is Polka Dot...
She's been my friend for 60 years
She keeps me laughing, even when
she's not in costume...
Polka Dot's real name is Ginney Jean
She IS A CLOWN my favorite kind of friend.
by ~ judy
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
"Are you mad at me?"
"I wouldn't say 'mad.'"
I'd say
captious
petulant
furious
acrimonious
irritable
querulous
sour
acerbic
peevish
ornery
livid
vicious.
No, of course I'm not mad at you.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 7:40 PM UTC
it was a dry mojave afternoon,
with crows cursing shrilly
the streetlamps bearing broken bulbs
and the striped cat sleeping in the sun.
the wind drew frantic breaths,
exhaling dead leaves over the hill
and sending the blackbirds
spiraling into the sky.
a lizard stirred, somniferous almond eyes
gazing lethargically over his rock
and at the old man on the porch
leaning back- impossibly uncomfortable in his rickety wooden chair.
his name was Jackson.
gnarled gray hair mixed with gnarled gray beard
appropriately framing a pinched, ornery visage
and tattered clothes adorned his whisper of a body.
it was his sixty-fourth year here in the desert-
on the fifty-second he'd lost his wife
on the fifty-eighth he'd gained a kitten
named him Waldrop and let him **** the mice and lizards.
'sixty four years is a long time,'
a thought murmured in the back of his head
eyelids peeling back to give a cursory glance to Waldrop
who was stalking the reptile watching him.
he remembered his twentieth birthday
when Edna had first said she loved him
and he remembered that glorious July morning
where she said she was his forever.
he remembered the pain of labor
down in the factory,
and the camaderie with his fellows
chewing tobacco and cursing the bosses.
he remembered the time spent weeping,
but remembered more the time spent laughing
in places miles and miles away
that now seemed imaginary.
exhaustion echoed through tired bones
and he wondered who would feed the cat,
drooping eyes closing one last time
to await the warmth of sunset.
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 5:15 PM UTC
Nothing these days is truly failsafe.
You buy some Ultrathins and the babies might win,
even the Trojan horse had issues for the boys of Troy.
Fancy ribbed models can end up in shreds
& I've seen the reservoir tips burst.
But if you're still ***** & thirst for safe ***
you should try different combinations
of tubed-latex along with 'the pill'
dispensed from
the fancy circular monthly-packages.
That's your best bet,
your best chance of survival.
If anything, don't be a dinosaur
thinking your living Jurassic,
this is about being prophylactic
'cause nobody knows
what killed those ornery
unprotected beasts.
The experts believe,
it was probably
a rare disease
that got 'em.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 4:20 AM UTC
Little boy smiling at me
Innocent and sweet
At the time he was a pain I hated to meet
My blonde bouncy curls he liked to pull
Teasing me had done it's toll
I'd chase him around
Doing circles on the playground
Just two young kids teasing eachother till no end
He was a stubborn boy, refusing to bend
Years passed as the boy grew into a strong willed man
I grew into a lanky woman without any goals or life plan
We drifted apart for awhile
Became separated by miles
You know when you meet someone again that you haven't seen for awhile?
It's hard not to remember them as they were when they were but a child
Meeting him again something had changed
Something that made my heart ache in way that was strange
Wanted to be close to him
Yet his once innocent eyes warned of sin
I could tell that the man had been through pain
I feared that this spark wouldn't remain
The boy was was still haunting my mind
The man was a reminder I was running out of time
Once so ornery and carefree
Now he could barely smile at me
I could tell he wanted this just as much
Seemed to fight the urge to lean in whenever we touched
So different they were. The boy and the man that he had become
The boy was there for me. The man just disregards my love
The man is forever fighting against the pull of fate
By the time he realizes what he needs it'll be too late
The one who use to chase me
Now tries to flee
Funny how the roles reversed
After so long I searched
Waited for him to come back here
Now all his pain screams not to come near
Strong man hiding from me
Broken and free
Long ago he was an innocent boy that taunted
Now he is the man that has left my heart haunted
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
hey dad.
how are you?
i miss you. a lot.
although you're just a text away, i still can't bring myself to carry through.
i hope she treats you well. and i hope those boys aren't ornery ********
i sometimes think about the day at the st. louis children's mueseum.
it was happiness.
i think that's my reason.
i still haven't told you about it; the darkness, i mean
my darkness i should say
because i know about yours
maybe we can bond
since our biological bond isn't real
sometimes when i'm sad, i want to call you
but you're probably busy
or maybe you don't care
i don't know
i wanna tell you how i can't stop thinking about filling the emptiness and longing, with substances you've had issues with in the past
speaking of, you're drinking again.
i blame her whole-heartedly
although it pains me not to give the fault to myself for once,
i still will always blame her
did you know that when you got engaged, i wanted to jump off a cliff?
probably not.
do you know that i still sometimes feel like that?
but not just becasue of you.
mom is a factor and sonia and grandma and friends and boys
but you,
you were the one i never thought would make me feel so ******
it's cliche, i know
an other suicidal teen girl with daddy issues
i'm thinking about what would happen if i were to visit you in the fall
imagining her on your arm makes my heart feel stretch across the grand canyon of space that seperates your world and mine
someday i will tell you
everything
every feeling and thought and wrong-doings
i will say it all
dad, i miss you to the god **** moon and back
it's five in the moring and i'm thinking of the way you used to take care of our yard
you were just getting bad then
i was young
i didn't realize
please know i've grown into a woman
without you
i get it now
i'm imagining seeing you in september and you sugar coating the truth and me crying over a false reality
so please be honest with me if you want to be in my life
i run on truthfulness and cynical humor
and if you can't handle me
tell me
because i deserve the truth as much, if not more than you
i love you, ron.
and you will always be my father
no matter who comes in goes in my life
you will walk me down the aisle and we'll be happy
as happy as we were that day at the st. louis children's muesuem
i miss you so ******* much, dad
call me back as soon as you get this.
i hope you are doing well.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 6:06 AM UTC
hapax legomenon “Texas Women”
**(hapax legomenon: a term of which only one instance of use is ever recorded)
(Texas Women: a term of which only one instance of use is ever recorded)**
for
ꏳJ LꂦVꏂ & Cne’
once again, they sweet sweep me off my feet,
carry me to the Court of Finger Wagging,
to be accused of hating and/or loving Texas Women
simultaneously, diffidently, consequentially, unclearly differentially
this is no flower picking exercise, shaking of the head,
“he loves me, he loves me not,” rinse and repeat,
a northern trick to confuse the plano truth,
warns the Judicial Triumvirate
your Honors, I swears,
never wrote those conjunctive words,
Texas, Women,
never ever, until just now,
a genuine hapax legomenon
akin to taking god’s name in vain,
if one dare ever utter these words, and
blows the opportunity,
well, shotgun, if you know what I mean,
one gets only
one chance
so cut me quick to the chase’s conclusion
let’s go to my defense single & singularly:
true, of women I have written, and
“too much,”
is a mere theortical constriction
I love to love women,
and a 57 variety pak is a-ok by me
an inordinate number of poems may have referenced
females hailing from a certain great state,
but never together, side by side, have I ever employed
that phrase, for my imaginations
are more than sufficient
have loved women from many places, too many faces,
some beyond measure, now a forever,
a hoarded memoir unpublishable treasure,
some, it’s true, possessed jeans and a cowboy hat,
and dangerous boots, which one admired from a
goodly distance
they brook no con, tilting their heads quizzically,
there is no maybe with women from this place,
maybe you love us, maybe not, but either way,
there ain’t no maybe in our emotional lexicology!
ok.
the only woman I ever hated is dead and buried,
and yes, I shot her dead for being ornery cactus mean,
so by this roundabout roundup summation,
you may put your head on pillow tonight,
smiling confident thinking that your hapax legomenon,
is deep in the heart of a grown boy hailing from nyc,
still a crazy straight shooter
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
The people to the left of me want to get married, but not to each other. Mawwiage is a funny word. Gopher? Potato. Crawdad. Wobble. Jiggly bits. Harmonica. Put your arm on it, cousin. Guzzle. Doozy. An ornery snool. Troglodyte. Haysoos was a troglodyte, that's one of the most hilarious sentences I can think of. Dudebro and ******* are nice. Dankrupt. Barbie. The urban dictionary gave an example sentence using Barbie: if Barbie is so popular why do you have to buy her friends? Perhaps if I memorize that line and say it, I'll get a half second of laughing, showing I have the value to entertain others for about two seconds. That'd be a nice feeling. I'd feel peach-fuzzy. A woman is standing with a rainbow of candy in a ziplock bag. I can't make this stuff up. Life is so incredibly fascinating. Just kidding. But really, that's some bright stuff on display in her transparent bag.
Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
On a Lilly pad a frog sat alone
He jumped in the water, a splash he'd known
Frog swam and swam until he met his pal
On another Lilly pad sat crazy Hal
Hal had ideas, the frog wasn't sure
His plans were not always completely pure
Frog followed Hal thru the grassy quagmire
They'd gone fairly far, Frog began to tire
It started to sprinkle very large drops
The two hid in the marsh with a few hops
Hal whispered his plan in Frogs little ear
To Scare Miss Lady it became very clear
Miss Lady was such a beautiful gal
She really liked Frog, but not ornery Hal
She, always waiting for some sneaky prank
Tired of their shenanigans to be quite frank
Miss Lady was planning to turn the table
Prank those two, she was perfectly able
She sat up her scheme in the mossy bog
When here came that Hal, followed by Frog
Miss lady was on her favorite pad
She couldn't help but be a little mad
Miss Lady cried out, she needed a hand
She led them just inches from the quicksand
This little prank could have been quite a mess
Miss Lady scared them she had to confess
They quickly backed up in total surprise
The three agreed to end pranks and eat some flies
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
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
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 11:39 PM UTC
Optimal monstrance languishing vast tractive icky yantra grandiose plenary juxtaposition repertoire blasphemously exoneration zealotry sensorium unary heuristic nimbus warranty acerbity kinesiology xenobiotic corporeal quantify finite
Ornate mendacity lurid vauntness transition icon yenta genuflection despicable plenipotentiary jaunt rendition blatant eulogy zygosity subliminal unbridled holistic nimiety wrangle asperity kinetics xanadu conjunctive quixotic fictitious
Opulence moribund licentious vector tellurian ichor yerk glitch deplorable pandemic jurisprudence rectitude brusque edifice zoic suborn uncanny homogeny nihilism wrest acuity kleptomania xylem conjugational quagmire fornications
Ostensive morsel longevous venery terrestrial ictus yoni gestational denigrational plagiaristic jettison recital belligerent extemporaneous Zephyr substantiation unfathomable huckster notorious wrought agility Kobold xylophagous coercion quintessence faux pas
Ordinate meticulous loquacity verve tantamount incus yore genre denouement portentous jeopardy radix bodacious exacerbational zilch subtlety usurping horizon nostrum wroth articulation kowtow xerophilous critique quantum flamboyance
Odious meatus lingam volition telepathy –ics yowl gesticulation douceur potentate jocular repartee bartizan exigency zoomorphic solace ultimatum hornswoggle notch wreak autonomy kangaroo court xenophile credibility quasi flippant
Ornery motivity lucidity votary talismanically idolatry yogi gimpy dastardly paltry jouncy ramify beastly enmity zoolatry sultry unity ***** nugatory wrathy artistry keeky xylography critically queasy flighty
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 9:16 PM UTC
As the curtain dropped, the thin and tiny dancers spun, leaving shadows dancing on their own. With movement, the orchestra rumbled into existence like an old, but trusted engine, the story, if there was one to tell, came to life and extended to a peak.
Those in attendance, were mostly astonished by the playwrights sardonic ebb and flow. Jaws hung like meat from the ceiling of an old delicatessen as earth tone lights dodged about and around folks ears, gently tilting through a myriad of pleasant poses.
The now heavy and breathy air in the theater coalesced as the heat of the story changed the room. Hands were clenched and teeth were squeezed as purpose slowly but surely found the dimly lit theater, deep in the heart of the old, dark city.
At the top of that coaster that night, the leading gal crooned, wept and danced to the delight of many. Her savior and his foil, battled the war of children, the director beamed a sullen and mysterious glee as his creation came to life.
One gasp followed another that evening as notions simply chugged along like the underground train. All applause for the players in the end was loud, honest and ornery then after the show behind the deep red and dangling curtain laid the pats of many, on the backs of others.
No smile to big and no lid to low as the bubbly and fine foods found the lips of those aboard the dream. Then, at the exact moment the intrigue of the performance trickled into a thousand tomorrows, there was Joy, quite subtle, but existent, quietly dancing the pretty little dance, of the thin and tiny dancers.
Nov 24, 2009
Nov 24, 2009 at 4:59 AM UTC