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WhyamIaSpoon Jan 2012
My auspicious and audacious assault augments the annoyance of aged accomplices.

My bodacious broadside of boffolas berates and buffaloes bros beneficently.

A classy crusade Clownishly chiseling and criticizing childishness.

A devilish ******* of dillydallying dullards; devoutly denying dimwits the dulcet dream of defiance.

Excessive, exuberant edification, ebulliently eliminating education-evictees.

A fair-weather frolic in flippancy with furious fools floundering in flawed foppishness.

Gregariously grating glum guys gleefully, growing grander garnishes of gripping gallantry gaily.

Heckling hooligans highlights my heavenly humor.

Irreverently irking irritable, iniquitous idiots in inestimably infuriating and incredible instances.

A jolly, jocular **** joking with jerks.

A kreiger kicking kleptomaniacs in the karyotype. (Cut me some slack, this is 'k', after all.)

A ludicrous, laughing lambaste of lollygagging lunatics, loftily loosing luscious lunacy on lucky losers.

A magnificent masterpiece of malfeasance, a monstrous, malevolent mission of massive misfortune for the minor minors missing no malicious missive.

A noxious, narcissistic niggling of nitwits, niftily nixing the noisome naivete of niggardly nobs.

An offhand, off-color outburst of outlandish observations to outclass the obnoxious overtures of obsequious offal.

A pragmatic prediction of possible platitudes or platypi, a placid parley of pyrotechnic pleasantries provoking Pyrrhic protections by prurient prats.

A quixotic quibble quarreling with a queer quarry.

Ribald ribbing, ruining the robust reality of the repreachful, repugnant, and rapacious with risque ridiculousness.

A silly, slighting slander of sluglike slavishness, succinctly sinking sloppy simpletons sourly.

Tracing the titillating talent of towing tyranny to towering terrors to tactless, togless, terrapins of the times.
You see after all i my mates laughed at me for being a little ****** kid

there was one friend called lyle who wanted to be my friend at school

and i at that time, thought this friend was cool, seeing i knew nobody else

but we had fun together, like a dream made me understand,that we used

to play basketball at the local courts which i thought was cool, and it would’ve

been nice, if my other school mates would join in, but we did play games

with other kids who dropped in, i just had a dream, where my mate the messiah

came in and taught me how to become respected enough to make it to hollywood

and before you say it, i know he isn’t my daddy, but i was a daddy figure to him

letting him stay at my house, you see we went to the movies and top floriade

and also to the national multi cultural festival, and the messiah said, instead of

shop food, how about you have multi cultural food, yeah, it’s tasty, hey, we also

went to each others houses, i had him sleep over, but i never slept over there,

mainly because, i have caused a lot of problems expecting to sleep over in my childhood

you see lyle came in my dream last night to show me the ***** cool kid, in the form of the messiah

he made the messiah, buy all these tickets to expensive events, like maybe a soccer game

between barcelona and ajax, yeah i used to joke with him, and we saw a stand up comedy event, and we find

that kind of thing very funny, but i heard the witch doctor who killed my previous life patrick dunbar

saying, hang on, are you the guy from the charnwood inn, and he told men to shut up, and i said

leave me alone, i am a family person, i don’t need the crazy demented witch doctor kidnapping my cool kid

the witch doctor, is trying to steal my mate patricks voice saying, i am not a cool kid, to make me too scared

and i really wanted a mate, and lyle was the only young bloke who gave a ****, like take me to bet on the footy

once we turned 18, but in school, we went to the footy and going over to each other’s houses, to play cricket or footy, and mate

lyle was a really big wild boy, he was, ya know a fast bowler and a tough footballer, and i tried to keep fit, so i can

outclass him, and i think i succeeded, but ya know, if you ******* a mate like lyle, he will get cranky, cause he has a

problem worth anger, we also slept in the backyard tent, where lyle said, i ain’t scared of the old boogie woman

but, i was wanting cool friends, as he liked the idea of going to bed early, and my family and lyles family all got together

and talked to each other, and i enjoyed my conversations with lyles mum, mind you, there were moments, where i was

scared to go over, because, i feel if i **** people off, i will have no friends, i remember me and lyle used to be big eaters

but, i don’t want to eat like that no more, because, i don’t want any blood clot, mind you i still eat a lot, but i write and do art

because i need to do things with my art, so my eating doesn’t get the better of me, there is more to brian allan than eating

too much, me and lyle were like two cool people playing bingo, and that was cool, you see,in my dream, my mum packed

a whole case of cakes, for me to share with all the young dudes at the festival, but the messiah felt uneasy and said i don’t want

to be a kid, he said he wants to fucken grow up, but i can’t understand why, he is telling me to grow up, and i hate the idea

of being treated like i am trying to be like other people, like my brother, i am like brian, just me, brian allan, i had fun with lyle

despite him being a loud mouth wild person who liked the idea of picking fights with everyone, but i have to understand

i ******* a lot of people, but this dream shows, all the fun times, i did a horrible crime, but i still think that it was my belief

of being greame thorne and pastrick diunbar in my previous life, being taken too young, was the reason of all my crazy person crimes

and dad couldn’t except i had a mental illness, and either can my old school mates, you see i ignored patrick at the st george bank

in the mall, and i heard him say get ****** brainy, like he was worried, why isn’t brian talking to me, and i said to pat, hi pat and

patrick went sarcastically hi brian, your brother isn’t around anymore, brian, we don’t have to be nice to you, i had fun with patrick

and lyle as well, in the new years eve concert to end the 1980s, me patrick and lyle went to the belconnen soccer club for the

end of the 80s nye party, and me and patrick and lyle had a few XXXX’s, and i got drunk and crashed over patricks house

and i crashed over patricks house, too much, patrick got sick of the fucken sight of me, i can understand in hindsight, that

i ****** him off, so i annoyed the mall crowd, and i was invited to a party, but because of the party i had at my house, where

my dad played taxi driver to all my drunken mates, and i wasn’t really a good host, because, i prefer the laid back lifestyle

partying out in the firehouse nightclub and the private bin in front of youtube, and i would love a televised youtube nye bash

on youtube, but they don’t, so i made my own nye bash, and it was pretty radically successful as well, i have still got my cool

jeans on, from those days, but i am a talented entertainer and actor now, and as much fun as i had with patrick and lyle,

those days are in the past, i am moving on now,

my granny took me to bingo too, my nanny watched the end of the 70s nye concert with me

i remember when jimmy barnes through beer cans at a concert at alberton oval, adelaide

yeah, totally radical dudes
dessa Aug 2020
caste to caste,
we are on a pyramidal paste.
less to none, the options to outclass
this is the cry of an outcast.
Crysta Gingras May 2016
For into the battle we ride
Screaming at the top of our lungs
Each matching the other’s stride
As the enemy fires their guns
For honor
For pride
We wage our crusade
For hope
For love
We are not afraid
The ice in your eyes
Stops our enemy cold
To stand against you, unwise
For no prisoners you hold
The fire burns in my soul
Leaping forth across the field
Blazing without control
Our enemy forced to yield
Together we outclass them
They cower and shake
We thrive in the mayhem
They struggle not to break
Do mercy we show our foes
Or fierce coldness to display
It may come again to blows
Until then our blades we stay
To each other we look
Our eyes soften for the gander
Like a story out of a book
Especially for a bystander
This battle was not easy
Nor will it be the last
So I reach to kiss you sweetly
Before the calm can pass
For my angel
brandon nagley May 2015
Absurd accumulations, broad- cloth's to wipe each bays station! What a joke of clownery tools.Irritated refuge, instigated neices and nephews miss their woeful father's.... One for a count, a whole cell to a slaughter.
Down and out lane I make mine way to your lonesome hell, where ankh arched wells draw back from higher hills..Robust outbreak of plentiful disease, orthopedics outclass your sneeze!!!!
Ovation applauded to ******* alike!!! Ordaters to outvoted daters, silence is thy key to your miserable life!!!!
Pasturage for slobs, corn for all cobs, your colonels panel design twists slow around the vine!!!!
Seconds until six, ten minutes until nine....... Will you behave like the boy you should be?
Or could have been?,
preservationman Jan 2015
Words inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King
Inspiration with empowerment
Every sentence by the hour
The image in having power
No period could ever certainly stop
It’s the movement’s that keep all of us on top
We shall overcome
Yet the fight continues and we are not done
Together we are all one
The sunrise in standing and looking beyond our cries
Every effort should be our try
Surpass obstacles that label us outclass
Take no backseat in being last
Races are about associating and living among
Races come in all shades and we are one
Freedom is a given right
No challenge just asking for respect and being polite
Races are not asking for the world
It’s our voices in being heard with understanding being the swirl
More than just Washington, DC steps
Not Las Vegas where you can place a bet
Speeches are made to keep the world abreast in aware
There should be no negative caution in our beware
Think on resolutions, but not be a square
The focus point in how races can go from when to there
As a Content Writer/Poet the voice is in our hands
It has become a solid demand
Think about what causes us to write
Think about how we will continue with Dr. King’s fight
Dr. King fought hard so that races would be recognized
That is enough for us to energize
The mission wasn’t truly complete
History has regained itself with bringing deceit
Slavery was a thing of the past
But the outcome didn’t last
The fog has lifted and we can see clearly now
But today we have a battle and we must show the world how
Speak with positive initiatives
Let your word of voice be like the raw of thunder
But not take cover and hide under
The mirror shows the image of whom we are
Dr. Martin Luther King who took this far
Races that come together are like no other
A separation between
A battle of good and mean
Honor the man who said you are a person
Honor the man who instilled dignity and purpose
Dr. King who died for us
Step up the platform being a must
Dr. King, “Thank you for inspiring me”
I will carry your dream continuously for all too see.
Crazy flow, stick to only what ya know, word mojo,
Kicks like the gear, when they glow, never put on a show,
Front row, saw cuties throwing *** faces galore, had to store,
My memory, left her with permanent, chances to be, with me,
Slim waist cutie, I'm thinking she might, be the wife for me,
But it's too early, to contest digest, knowledge for the best,
Bet on myself, check my health, mental bank account,
Sitting good, for my wealth, contemplate my steps,
In stealth, caught a jet of air, reminiscing about her here, near,
Sounds so rare,
I feel like I'm not me, baby thinking about my lost, ZZ
she bought as sweet as strawberry, kiwi, with a splash of Bailey,
Creme Coffee, smell of honey, can I get the digits, properly?
Wanted as my property, have a few lads, and build a legacy,
My forever adorned lady, do it right, dance hall, like the JBs,


Tears rolling down the mask, outclass, thoughts blast,
Face the task, pages of grief, formed, out of the flask,
Front street, cant dodge the pains, that love to sweep, up,
Emotions, coasting pride, sitting in the back, grabs for posing,
Time love stamps, only for the few chosen, chimes to a golden,
Day, listen to what the violins say, cries of a new old tune,
Soon you'll see the happiness bloom, consume the gloom,
Floor out the pain, standing amongst the rain, rambles in my brain,
Will we ever see, each other again, my heart, my best friend,
Though the love bends, it seems nobody wants, to straighten,
The latch, cooked from the raw batch, snort over a catch,
Pitched, enriched, off your scent, loves a mystery, heavenly stitched,
Arlene Corwin Feb 2021
The things I wonder about are things I write about.  The things I write about I wind up by exploring, for one does not know how much one knows until one starts to write.

              Ambition

I’m never certain
How I feel about ambition.
I suspect a ‘pro and con’
Existing one inside the other;

A doubtful aim,
Passive as a dream that may be
Based on what’s illusory.
Or like a hurricane
That drives though friendships, kith and kin -
Anything that blocks the way
To his or her supremacy.

A triumph or a trump?
Does it falsify what ought to be
In inner you and inner me:
Peaceful and in harmony?

Ambition’s song feels somehow wrong;
The canvas of acceptance torn.
One's always read
One should be lead
By what goes on right now;
The loving of the here and now
The road that leads where you should go.

Ambition spends its time on what can be;
Wasted energies too in a rush
To reach objectives preached eons long gone
Standing  for patience, modesty and reason.
I’m not certain how I feel about ambition.

Ambition 2.23.2021 Circling Round Reality; Arlene Nover Corwin
  
.trump: a verb which means: outshine, outclass, eclipse, surpass, leave standing, concoct, fake, falsify…”
2..ambition: “from the Latin/French ‘ambire’ to go round soliciting, drumming up…A
A plethora of attention
focused on twentieth anniversary
regarding terrorist attacks
upon American soil nine eleven
two thousand and one,
thus Schwenksville poet
opted for his best métier write.

While riding atop a yak
both feet went wickety wack
trudging beast of burden a throwback
to the brainchild
of John Mauchly and J. Presper Eckert
devised Electronic Numerical
Integrator and Computer
otherwise dubbed ENIAC
cumbersome invention
programing machine no easy knack
also impossible mission or fit in pocket
book versus handy to tote
laptop perfect fit inside day pack.

As an aging long haired
pencil neck geek baby boomer
who reckons himself
as schleppy (snoop doggy dog) self groomer
cannot escape scornful passersby
sneering, snickering and snorting
at me, an utter embarrassment to humanity,
who also sports sophomoric humor.

Unfair for yours truly
to saddle anonymous readers
which travails of mine
analogous overburdening
an old decrepit ***,
hence lumpenproletariat
marxist (brother) fellow,
whose insensitivity
could be interpreted as crass

subsequently aiming figurative sights
upon fresh fields,
where leaves of grass
harvested by me one
Norwegian bachelor farmer wannabe
ofttimes dashes off to Lake Woebegone
to escape madding crowds who harass

him, cuz he accentuates whole foods
with plenty of fiber to avoid
experiencing lower gastrointestinal impasse
acquiring moniker windbag
courtesy humongous formed ****** mass
necessitating the expertise of Nass
(another name for Nishga -

a member of a branch
of Tsimshian people
of British Columbia inhabiting Nass
River basin and/or dialect of Tsimshian
spoken by Nishga)
homeopathic remedies outclass
those of 21st century medicine,

said indigenous people
interpret objection toward their
age old medicinal practice as sass
even consider disagreement violation,
a figurative criminal mind to trespass
and the subject in question
a veritable, (albeit harmless) *******.
preservationman Sep 2023
Homeless Man emotion
Heaven heard
Homeless Man felt alone and an outclass
Suddenly a rush of wind
Just then
Encouragement sat in
It was Heaven to the Homeless Man on Earth
Created with a purpose
Embraced with inspiration
You are homeless in the moment
Great things are going to be a turnaround
Heaven’s promise
There will be a pursue
Here’s what you should do
Trust and believe
Blessing is what you shall receive
Wonder is what you will see
Just believe on the Almighty being me
Pray no matter what
Your circumstance will become victory
You will have a story
Testimonial glory
One day
Tomorrow’s beginning
Hold on Homeless Man
Tell your story in what is too come
You will never be lonesome
Your mission
Your success
Your purpose
Your whole life defined spiritually
The outcome honest and true
Babatunde Raimi Feb 2020
Be tenacious like the Gipsy King Fury
Believe in you right like Wilder
Duck and weave like Joshua
Wisdom is greater than strenght
Also, know when you're spent like the Klitschkos

Life is like a boxing ring
Who ever believed Ruiz would outclass AJ
Life will.always favour the prepared
He took his shot and overcame
Until you win, try again like Joshua

East or west, north or south
A golden fish has no hiding place
Starve your fears and feed your courage
That's the mindset of champs
And don't stop till you win

The Gipsy King was written off
He had succumbed to vices
Fell for the trappings of fame
But he came back strong
Let that thing go, before it downs you

Dear Friend,
The world is your stage
When you land those killer punches
You'll see nothing at the other side of fear
But success laced with joys

Above all, strive to leave legacies
Muhamed Ali is still the greatest
With his name in our history books
This legend will never be forgotten
When will your name become a brand?

Let me tell you about him
They call him "Iron Mike Tyson"
He still holds the bragging rights
The youngest heavyweight to date
He was a Gladiator

Like a Boy Scout, be prepared
Life will throw at you heavy punches
Pay the price for the prize
So you don't die a non-entity
Leave a mark

Never forget all your pitfalls
You'll need them to tell your story
When your glory shines
For you, failure is not an option
Friend, do you copy?

Shadow box with the best
They will show you your flaws
And show you the pathway
That leads to a glorious tomorrow

Don't say I didn't warn you
May this stand as a testament
Between you and I
That I tried to bring out your best
Stay positive!
preservationman Jun 2020
The Writer said
It was what the Poet did
The Writer and Poet both have a commitment and responsibility
Write what you think, and how you feel
A sense of purpose from conceal
The Writer’s theory of words with them being an anecdote
Then on the Poet’s point of view in words that are spoke
The Poet’s scene having a rhythm with a connection of emotional words
Well this feud had been going on far too long, but enough was enough
But one would wonder if the Writer and Poet really being together
They both seem to outclass each other
Now they are feuding on whose right, and the other whose wrong
However. When it comes to words and sentences, the Writer and Poet
Both need to get along
The idea is collaboration
For the reader, it is appreciation
The hidden Moon into a foggy night, but disturbances into unrest with eerie sounds in the distance could be heard in the darkness of night. Life not knowing tomorrow with an uncertainty woe
Now that would be the impact of both in coordination of the Writer and Poet.
Now you know it
So this feud came to an agreeable end
Now everyone can be free and write again
It’s a sleepless night, and write I shall because a Writer and Poet can

— The End —