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Martin Narrod May 2017
Tangley Wangling

Fruit Jews in Tutus at youth group, maybe just a few with their screws loose. One self-rolling righteous group, their brothers grinning
Within the depths of their white-heads at the brim of a wet blanket suckling the needles catering new drug use. Two by two, elefants and woozels, hippopotamü's confusals, spongey-butts outfitting the rye n' wines refusals.

The luxury of a coccyx felt from the fingers turn to sunrise, where the water's weigh the bricks of suicides, concrete block tourniquets from the migraines of English turnabouts. So there's some surplus of surprise in them, in an integers shock-appraisal face-lift on Catholicism's lobotomy to cuckhold housewives seeking collagen, or the thick dark-skinned forearm-******* insider's swinging in the houses of the denizens, or repurposing their malign from their unused vaginas, to **** the dust off such scab-covered stitches, which is like vacuuming between the loose inner-leg space of a succubus.

Bring out the gimp! Any fetishized leather-wearing hungry miner for the oral tongue-slapping mouth-dance might do, as long as the dom can subdue that sub tied to the stocks voted on for the public to use, there might be screaming, squirming, and scoffs, but there's nothing left for him that Marina Abramowicz hasn't already proven she's willing to lose. Plus, in this small town not far enough from Laramie, there's still too much fat to chew through, too much flab to tuck the **** into, where even the F.U.P.A. so deep that a *******-day or deity might need the leverage of a boot to get even Ron Jeremy's **** unglued.

Lucky loos by the brothel befit these new arrivals, though some tyrannosaurs despise 'em, smoke as much as you can if you've got 'em.

But don't let your antiques get you down, an ornithologist lends herself to your bookends, and even that nighthawk roosting makes your car alarm sound second rate, it's seconds late as the aves rave to the ravens, and they pontificate. Owls hoo-hoo and hooting, branch off with the others and start colluding. They just wanna get you home, to get back those prosthetics you've loaned.

Canoodling barbarians on their way back from the aquarium, demand  their fires come from oblivion, which sends sparks of arguments from the sharks and the bathylkopian oblivions, where we found that this water's warm these citizens, demand recompense for such grandiose living expense, three pence to use the phone, twelve rupees towards the sofa, and even a deutsch mark for every sit or every look at sit, it's just a chair, a doubly set of wooden legs, idling under a table plank. Pirated by the buttocks, such bullocks it is, and that's just it!

An archaeologist on assignment discovered that the future of the rhinoceros exists upon the olfactory exaggerated proboscis, the result of flushing unused anti-biotics, and is currently working for dimes out of college to deluge this quite deprived yet interesting biopic.  

The films of the *****, grab at the ***** thrown about by The Monkees, and the musicians wearing those stickers on their *******, are victim to XXS cotton denim vests, unzipped and barely covering themselves, added to by the accessories and rings, jewelry if anything, a pearl necklace and nubile sacrifis.

And the trollops frolic, diurnally dispose of logic, doing the hoopty-hoop, the alley-oops, with mom's high school flute in nothing but cowboy boots!

These are, the new discoveries of our species, carved into the marble and wet frescos, in the street reliefs, spray-painted and air-brushed motif, this creates such gatherings for throngs of people who've unachieved their needs, who've displaced their parents and display their racist grieving beliefs to trash indigenous language pleas for francophonian linguistic greed that have splayed their hellacious treaty in what's considered to be modern circumscribed and ill-painted cuneiform visually conceived, vocal graffiti.

So that the neu-faux derogatory delegates stress to sudatorium, it has regressed to moratoriums, we've now cancelled this sport consortium of awful and flagrant art performances.
Martin Narrod May 2017
Tangley Wangling

Fruit Jews in Tutus at youth group, maybe just a few with their screws loose. One self-rolling righteous group, their brothers grinning
Within the depths of their white-heads at the brim of a wet blanket suckling the needles catering new drug use. Two by two, elefants and woozels, hippopotamü's confusals, spongey-butts outfitting the rye n' wines refusals.

The luxury of a coccyx felt from the fingers turn to sunrise, where the water's weight some surprise them, in an integers shock-appraisal. Lucky loos by the brothel befit these new arrivals, though some tyrannosaurs despise 'em, smoke as much as you can if you've got 'em.

But don't let your antiques get you down, an ornithologist lends herself to your bookends, and even that nighthawk roosting makes your car alarm sound second rate, it's seconds late as the aves rave to the ravens, and they pontificate. Owls hoo-hoo and hooting, branch off with the others and start colluding. They just wanna get you home, to get back those prosthetics you've loaned.

Canoodling barbarians on their way back from the aquarium, demand  their fires come from oblivion, which sends sparks of arguments from the sharks and the bathylkopian oblivions, where we found that this water's warm these citizens, demand recompense for such grandiose living expense, three pence to use the phone, twelve rupees towards the sofa, and even a deutsch mark for every sit or every look at sit, it's just a chair, a doubly set of wooden legs, idling under a table plank. Pirated by the buttocks, such bullocks it is, and that's just it!

An archaeologist on assignment discovered that the future of the rhinoceros exists upon the olfactory exaggerated proboscis, the result of flushing unused anti-biotics, and is currently working for dimes out of college to deluge this quite deprived yet interesting biopic.  

The films of the *****, grab at the ***** thrown about by The Monkees, and the musicians wearing those stickers on their *******, are victim to XXS cotton denim vests, unzipped and barely covering themselves, added to by the accessories and rings, jewelry if anything, a pearl necklace and nubile sacrifis.

And the trollops frolic, diurnally dispose of logic, doing the hoopty-hoop, the alley-oops, with mom's high school flute in nothing but cowboy boots!

These are, the new discoveries of our species, carved into the marble and wet frescos, in the street reliefs, spray-painted and air-brushed motif, this creates such gatherings for throngs of people who've unachieved their needs, who've displaced their parents and display their racist grieving beliefs to trash indigenous language pleas for francophonian linguistic greed that have splayed their hellacious treaty in what's considered to be modern circumscribed and ill-painted cuneiform visually conceived, vocal graffiti.

So that the neu-faux derogatory delegates stress to sudatorium, it has regressed to moratoriums, we've now cancelled this sport consortium of awful and flagrant art performances.
Marie-Niege Jul 2015
and you feel the day slip away -

i lost my incredibly absolut day
to a wafer thin, cappuccino hued
boy who showed an infinity for
expressing his appreciation for
color and curiosity by outfitting
himself in raven blues and navy
blacks. and on his angular cheeks
and butterfly lashes, i caught the
honor of an absolut wink and a
flush of mischief. on the promise
of a full, absolute day, i felt my day
slip away as certain as his wingless
back held my eye and ducked down
a sunlit alley and i pulled my hoarsed
voice into whispering, "hello."
L DeCypher Jul 2019
Definitely defying distant memories of a time well spent on deepening the gaze into reality vs fiction.
Lives lost in the shuffle of pleasantries and social wannabes.
I know what the hell I don't want to understand in this life's dos and don'ts.
Hanging mirrored picture frames mixed with printed wooden Scrabble games.
The minds best outlet for verbal spewage across and in-between these thick painted lines on green plastic grassroots.
And the Stadium is packed full!
Outfitting Batman's infantries while shrouding Robin's hideouts.
Burning bushes know much pain while badges shine at lights out.
Find your passions through these smoking guns are tagged with stain.  F#ck the rules and F#ck yourself bewitching your betrayed.
Handcuffed concrete convicts can't contain who holds the key.  
m olding, Move ing, working parts to  Help The  bl I nded see…,,,...
07/02/2019
L. DeCypher
Obscure word painting about how our reality is relative. This world is your playing field. And how the wise live life between the yard lines. We each hold the keys to our own happiness, so unlock wisely :)
Andrew Kerklaan Jun 2017
(Pt 1.)
I know you don't want to hear this but your immediate dismissal of invitation was not my fault.

I didn't put those words in your mouth and I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to put them in mine.

I'd also like it if we could just get along or maybe separate as I'm still not certain I'm making the right decision

I wish that you could make up your mind about whether to **** or fight. I don't find this outfitting very suiting on you

And why is it that it always needs to boil down to this? It's like your default is bickering or blame and I'm sick of it.

When will you understand that your driving a permanent wedge between us with your rudeness?

That's what it is too. Plain bold faced child-like rudeness.


It's poison.


(Pt 2.)
This stake will be the one that kills us now.

Fixated on our mutually assured destruction. This defecation impending will self-fulfil if it needs to.

I just hope you come out of this alive.
I don't mean to blame you either, it's my fault too.

But you gave up on me.
                        And for that I blame you.
.
I thought I loved you Nina.
Just look at us now.
easy to conjure this idyllic June 8th, 2020

Envision bucolic Currier
and Ives rendered landscape,
or canvas painted
courtesy gifted late Thomas Kinkade
(or substitute favorite creative soul)
how aforementioned illustrious artists drape
mesmerized amateur and/or

art appreciation connoisseur
admiring realistic enchanting
imaginary vista heavenly made
entices observer set foot
into picture frame to escape
night gallery twilight zone

outer limits of insanity
madding crowd, urban sprawl
Schwenksville vinyl city haint no substitute
for country scenes to trade,
nevertheless industrialization
indiscriminately didst ****

flora and fauna loot
and pillage terra firma
free for all entire raid
obliterated any vestige
repurposing topographical shape
into accommodations bespeaking

civilization trademark manmade
ever so transient
ephemeral fleeting testimonials,
fast forward near future doomsday
subsequently abandoned pockmarked
terrestrial firmament tract devoid,

where vital ecology left to scrimp and scrape
defrauded token simians top doggone primate,
who angrily jabber and jape,
how **** sapiens temporarily
foolhardy wrested and arrested development
similarly displayed by

supersmart ecocentric beings,
now inhabiting other planets, solar systems
thunderous guffawing Earthlings
laughable price paid
regarding masquerade, facade, charade,
who sowed their own demise,

cuz eventually mother nature
reasserted herself challenging
denizens outfitting (sub)urban square cityscape
Gaia tried her darndest
to reverse subsequent development
after groundbreaking *****

nsync with backhoes and bulldozers
gouged out and erected *******
quixotic, systemic, totemic,
and universalistic symbols
donning barren accouterments
trumpeting outsize egos

housing early humans settlements
more soberly, accurately
setting future stage
archeological alien moonscape
dumbstruck otherworldly explorers
imagining ignoble beasts afraid

to cultivate peace and harmony on Earth
goodwill toward all men/women
perhaps impossible mission
impulse to grab scruffy nape
of countless scraggly long haired
pencil necked geeks

remnants of bajillion
multicultural peopled tribe
occupying all four corners of globe
far long overdue
corrective measure delayed,
though incremental progressive

fits and starts overt
vis a vis protesters of late
think two hundred and
thirty third month into 22nd century.
Kate Feb 2018
Treetops whistle and sway, rustling leaves across the frigid earth. Sunlight - sparse and spotty as patches of clouds sail the sky above, determining the placement of shadows. 
A clear view between the pines and across the lawn, tell of the season, even through just a quick window glance. Deceiving can this quarter be, with frequent sunshine of plenty but often paired with wind chilling to the bone, having more than a simple harsh temperament. 
Much liked stroll abouts and meanderings are not taken so often, as being weathered in such an extensive mannerism, may not be gentle nor always pleasant. 
The ground crackling beneath footsteps. Passing scents of fiery warmth. Bundles of clothing atop layers of clothing outfitting scurrying folk. 
** Where shall I pass my day? Amidst the tranquil familiarity of my own space? Or perhaps over a temperature appropriate cup of joe, harboring the corner table at the local coffee shop?? I'm sure to be found, in either place, lost in daydreams while pondering over my own thoughts. If your aim to seek companionship is successful, your company joining mine, would be most gratifying...

— The End —