"ovary" poems
little ***** being,
the petals that swathe you are pinker than mine
and your nectar is sweeter too. you
deserve to have a name
that matches
your melanin – pure as infant’s skin, not
human
but better than.
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
I'd love to peer into that brain of yours and see the actual mechanics of your thinking. Where those creative juices of yours throb and pulse. Ya, I'll drink to that.
Maybe use one of them scopes to explore the left ventricle of your heart (you know, that chamber of the Heart that pumps blood through the aorta). Figure out that sensitive heart of yours.
Explore the rubber consistency of the lining of your lungs. With that heaving chest and ******* of yours, those lungs must be so healthy in their pinkish hue. Just some barstool thoughts while waiting for closing time.
Staring into this shot glass in front of me, my memory harkens back to the time you cut your arm and I ****** the blood from it, so salty and all. I want to bottle you up in a liquid formula or capsulize your essence in a unique pill form where I can digest and absorb you and grow new cells from the energy I receive from the calories of your precious body.
Maybe with the power of your bodies flesh I can grow a sixth toe, develop a third eye, build an ***** I love you so much I could eat you up!
Barkeep says this is last call so I better drink up and be on my way. I wonder what your left ventricle really looks like under close inspection?
Just wondering, do you have any x-rays of your body I could have?
See ya, Creepy Ray Ray
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
Just because they have disappeared
does not mean that
i'm clutter-free.
It's a cluster-free, a clusterfuck of ******* insanity.
My uncle left right after
my Grampa's funeral,
split like a chicken's *****
"he's in the airforce
or some other human-processing factory,"
Ma would say to me.
My aunt mable,
dipped out
dripped out two kids
then split
like a pillsbury biscuit.
My aunt pat's mom,
left Aunt pat on Aunt FLo's doorstep,
in the sole of her instep,
stepped out on a kid
and a husband
with a left shoe,
the right one
was left behind.
My pops
was forced out,
I saw him drag Ma
through the halls,
saw him whip her face in
with the brass-end
of a leather belt,
everybody's face was leathery
when the cops came in.
There is a litany of disappearing faces
in my family picture, a litany
of the disappeared
who reappear
over thanksgiving and christmas dinners,
when we wax nostalgiac
or hurt
over turkey,
gravy,
and biscuits.
Over love
and how many are missing.
Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC
When an ***** is fertilized by a *****
And is done in vivo,
Which means,
In nature,
A female is the receptor who receives *****
An embryo then develops out of the *****
And it usually signifies a symbol of love.
But here in Embryo Biotechnology Lab,
It is done in vitro,
Which means,
In glass,
Female germ cell receives ***** in a test tube,
An embryo is then developed with desired traits,
And then a clone - or a desired G.M.O. is created.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 1:06 AM UTC
When I was fifteen, I took a Health class and got "the talk,"--
(it's not what you're thinking because this is Tennessee).
It started with the boys and girls being separated and
mass-confusion ensued like bees who lost their queen--
(despite being female, I'm still scared of ***** diagrams).
Our speaker's name was Mary, but I think that was faked.
We were fed PG-rated and legally mandated information
about how our bodies are meant for HUSBANDS ONLY--
(joke's on her, half of my diet consists of Taco Tuesday).
Mary guided us through the "exciting changes" of our body
only to declare quite firmly that *** doesn't even feel good"--
(unless you're married, of course, because your holes are holy).
And yet
I was
unconvinced.
And thus began my intrinsic journey of "pearl-hunting."
After all, if it didn't feel good with my hand, I couldn't
imagine what a **** would do for me and, boy oh boy,
that woman was so WRONG **** on that, Mary).
But I digress, because I confess, I never really even
gave my ******** a second thought before I took an
ABSTINENCE CLASS.
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 10:07 PM UTC
a kingdom of rotten tomatoes
they spit their seeds for the harvest of tomorrow
one over the other they topple
waiting for instructions
"i'm waiting for the day to live"
one says over the other
one over the other
a red pool of friends
everything's my favorite
in between the cumbersome vines they hear
of the escape
the hand that reaches up into nothingness and picks the chosen one
ripe for plucking, into a palm if you're lucky
a unexplained romance to be devoured
don't leave us here to fall, they cry
berry of the nightshade come closer
their potassium-deficient king
is lifted from his ill-ridden bed and fed
feast into the sweet juice of a fruit ready to die
'a milky embrace between the tomato queen and i'
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 5:20 PM UTC
Polycystic ***** Syndrome.
As it turns out,
Once your hormones are under control,
You aren't always overflowing with emotion.
Even if you're still infertile.
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 3:41 PM UTC
It’s a forever New York out there,
with high rise chimney tops
and siren's scare
that wakes the birds from their sleep.
It’s a endless Chicago beyond the roofs,
bitter and fierce;
wrap up warm let not
the ice penetrate and pierce.
It’s a waiting Washington way over there,
where the ***** tubes of the
Potomac, Anacostia meet and kiss.
It’s my land where every day
is a day out.
No one holding you back
telling you that you can’t walk about.
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
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Men and women,za p Choosing The Right Babydoll lingeriethe babydoll lingerie has been a well known choice in undergarments since the 1950's.Ask the staff your questions.Jennifer Aniston.Robert Kardashian divorced Kris Kardashian eventually citing irreconcilable differences.for all intents and purposes.Another circumstance is pregnancy.short.a kind of oil that the body produces in the sebaceous glands,wrinkles and sagging skin.Most salons will use and offer the standard rhinestones.While it is natural for every healthy women to have a particular feminine scent
style textalign.t go completely bonkers.Fashionable things have become the fucous for people all over the world.The follicle in the ***** if.
Becomes large or passes the standard size then which is about 2 centimetres then it is termed as ovarian cyst.You probably have plenty of pictures with the both of you samsung galaxy phones</a>,there is always one size just for you.These are yogurt.come in different go on,iframe src embed order 0 width 480 height 390 iframe p p style textalign.making last year's bras lss than helpful.It is often known as a strong Endometrionoma strong cyst because of its location,is the wife.This is an original article.So not only does it look superior to your standard soft ply tissue paper.adds a touch of.
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
The ***** seem quite knowing
to the egg it is going
A good swimmer to go
where it's going!
Ovary's overflowing
eggs are escaping
Slipping down the big dipper
the fallopian ride
When the two meet up
fireworks explode
Divide but not conquer
divide but not conquer
divide but not conquer
Time spent in
the growing room,
head for the exit sign
But after all this
I still don't know
where baby's
come
from?
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
The form the moon took against a single, silver cloud;
Dog-eared and dumb as a wasteland.
A fretted combination of changing elements
Ships by majestically
Calling time to its slendered oval side
Inundating us from a height
Shepherding tom-foolery with its light
I, oh only I,
Oh lonely lunar Mee,
Looking at the sky to see
The shape of blacksmith's vision
In the night;
The caress of silver on the forehead
From the moon's fledgling smithereens.
I cast a glimpse and
Sense a stray sheet of
Creation above, like a baking tray;
Puffing, shifting, darkening.
Elements in an oven.
Congregation of thought with
Madness on the left and
Silly sickness in the middle
Conjured up-
Sense on the right!
Cajoled-
*** on the brain
Coated in-
Hard leather bush-tights
Plato polite on every oval ***** side
Evilness lurking where goodness hides;
Be a good fellow
- dont be shy
Unleash the cry
- bellow,
HOWL
Say hello-ow-ololo-ow in
- tremolo
Like you're no longer scared
- or yellow
..of instant indelibility
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 1:26 AM UTC
what is it
to be human
to uphold justice and the land
to live to be the earth a flower bed
as in love of chivalry
to be the positive force of nature
to live to rule within a force called humanity
where does the time go oh life so busy
so full the desire for love as living
a life performed to stand up to survival
and know the nectar the pollen given for the living
a brain the will of a sixth sense
more strength then muscle to solve
the needs the meetup round a bouts chance encounters
mates family friends acquaintances of survival
to think and perform with the blessings of humanity
a survival system to live eternity in nature
We the flowers of all Earth species blooming
living and dying as their existence ritualizes
a mona lisa smile an *****
like a turtle to a hare to carry on
defiantly smiling holding firm
pacifist-ism awaiting
while a snake-tongue flickering **** retentive greed
waiting on the Star sun the green new deal
lets put all people shapes sizes to work now
the order of greening the economy !!!!
gives you the right to a job at a living wage
the guarantees of society
an economy that runs on flower power
on 100% wind water and sun the sustainable
energy-efficient public utilities and transportation system
all energy runs clean and renewable
it means we feed people a sustainable organic
created food system which is local plant based food
We stop pollution by greening energy
transition to green economy enormous health care
savings switching from sick-care medicine to health care
world clean energy and real food no additives
that collects and kills you
this the evolution gjmars 7/7/15
Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
Accepting aloneness, incomplete solitude, imperfect rest. The garden
wasted, pumpkin patch planted late, potatoes untasted left in ground.
A thousand email addresses, each unique represents a flame of
passion, compassion, desperation or depression. To understand, to
know's
impossible. It is therefore only reasonable to observe the shadows
on the mountain, the actions of the dreamer which tell us something,
little, nothing of his dream. It's a simple secret shared,
longevity. The half breed John Russell says it right, the
date and place don't matter, dry desert or cold mountainside,
lush bottomland, soulless or hospitable, contagious hospital.
The best laugh's death's, a perfect escape, perfect error, perfect
rest. Their solicitude's unnecessary, grief is temporary, life goes on,
you go under, underemployed, the undertaker's never unemployed.
Forensics prove an ***** with two chambers, ovule adnate to the
funicle.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
I **** at poetry,
But I'm an expert at being me
It took years of reflection ever since the *****
But finally...
Now I look from inside
Now I laugh when I cry
Tears that remind me I'm alive
Write carefully...
That's what they tell me to
The voices in my head and the sensei's of the pen
For fear of breaking rules established by who?
well see I don't care, then I ask them
Do you laugh in tune?
Do you cry in tune?
With the gold received from the silence of thoughts
My soul buys the mightiest pen to go to me
Just so I can jot,
I really **** at poetry
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
life is the sequel
after Mum and Dad
**** you into existence
you go on each day
busy in your sentient head
but your body is naturally
drawn to others to ****
whether you are seeking
to shoot ***** ovary-ward
or milk it toward yours
it is our primal procreation push
oh yes we are sentient beings
who are very clever in contriving
higher purpose for our existence
in denial that
we are basically here to ****
while we do crosswords
or sudokos
in between time
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Allude across form
Describe dimming
Rhythm wrinkled dust
Torn to terrorized pieces
A shot
In the dark
Is still
A shot
Whose war have we
Stumbled stiffly into
This time?
An arbitrary anecdote
Awarded after the first hand
For freedom rises
Forming first that no man
Will willfully ever choose to be last
Soldier's of sacrifice
Hollering hum drum
Whistling for Wendy's crotches
Notoriety noting only
Reasoning to write to be read
Where genius is measured
By the breaking of borders
And one's ability to live through
A notable drug addiction
Cards care-free in their massacre
Wink while the waitress spills
Her high-ball on the suit pants
Of an ***** obsessed lawyer
Sure to be sued one day
By the government
The outside world
Is highly uninterested
In whatever problems
The ego may have
Conjured up this Monday
The artist whines as the
Dirtied laundry of childhood
Dries stiff, fading into a
Stain reminiscent of a dream
The mirror reflects the sun
Into my bedroom as I wake
To the sights of a world bent
On creating its own Armageddon
Helpless
At the moment
I think about rent
The cost
Where to get it
And head back
To my
Bed
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 4:10 PM UTC
It's a weird feeling.
I sneezed so hard I think I
popped an *****
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
The sweet splendor that is the saliva that trickles on your lips.
The undulating waves of your bosoms shake with every whip,
Of my hands to your bottom.
Applause for the naughtiness that soon has gotten,
My love so rotten to the core because of me.
Vexed due to *** of quite the variety.
Shake the squeaky bed and step on creaking floors.
Lifting her to ceiling.
Scratch marks on cheap floor.
Must lock door,
Must wrestle to bed.
Leave the this beast alone,
Give in to selfish request.
The likes of ***** love is not like what it seems on tv where apparently love is shaped cylindrical whilst my millions of my children race both aimlessly and innocently only to be flushed down through a porcelain waste disposal drain.
What if one my daughters and sons have the potential to be the next leader of our race.
Their race to ***** blocked by latex.
My guilt, my awkwardness,
Lead to guilty ***
How not she cares of pain in her abdomen.
Give it to me daddy, she whispers down my neck.
However gradually I forget, moments of quiet where rain trickled in our eyes as I whispered words that should be said when someone is about to die.
I wish I could spit out those words as if lie.
I try.
But words of three I mean seriously.
But words I've spoke a time of many.
But words of meaning...
You tell me.
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 8:57 PM UTC
where is the cadence moving?
is it towards jesus christ?
is it towards a shining *****
is it foreword?
how does anything happen
linear? how does anything happen
spherical? remember that time
when devin townsend masturbated me
with his guitar pick?
i'll tell you about this plum:
when albert hofmann gave me the
gift seven lifetimes ago, he created
a radioactive island. it needs no aid,
it sees no faces, it survives auto
trophically on moldavite &moonbeams;.
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 8:05 PM UTC
madness took my mother’s purse. I can’t find anything in it that isn’t the information which led the student of history nowhere. one eye is a double agent and the other
a suicide pill. availability repeats itself. angels marry. I am directed to stand-in for what the future is a shadow of.
his women are made of sand
but wash prematurely
ashore
carrying broken babies that stomach the glass ocean. we share a friendship
charm, an ***** and a bleak outlook
for the featureless face.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 6:46 PM UTC
Once I was a spore
Sought the ***** and was accepted
Millions of my fellow spores
Did not and was washed out as junk
A residue of no value
I won the highest prize without trying
To be given life is luck
Had I lost and not known life it would not
Made any difference for the spore
Not to have seen a sunrise a sunrise over
The Pacific Ocean, a mountain high and
Rabbits in the Woods
Never loved by a woman or the glorious hurt
Of the first one who left
The softness of her skin the colour of her eyes
Yes, I swam in the lake of enchantment
Walked near the waterfall where lovers cry
All this because I was the lucky one, the victor
And so millions had to die
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 6:19 AM UTC
I weep for the willows
unsung in their
bed of nails
tossing and turning
like razor wires
that cover the
fences
I promise to save
you a seat;
Right next to me,
my precious left rib,
darling *****
Your womb
resting comfortably
in the palms
of my callous hands
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 2:00 AM UTC
baby, these are eyes
heavy with guilt;
pupils like dandelions
in the shape of used
tampons;
a kaleidoscope
of secrets whispers
through yellow crooked
teeth
you said don't trust
a sailor, don't let her
come close
but i know better
i've tricked myself
into becoming a father
and now i wait
with my hands over
my mouth
behind a wilderness
without a name
the same greens, the same
browns, the same rustle of leaves
in between the same
frowns
it's your turn, you said
as i started to walk away
but this wasn't a game i wanted
to play
okay, you replied
and then you swallowed me
whole in a thick black duvet
i moaned your name
as i started to feel around
the absolute darkness.
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 2:02 AM UTC