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Addiction *****
It's such a killer
Addictions fun
A raging thriller

Weathers its a bag of twack
Or a fat green sack
It doesn't really matter
You could shoot pancake batter

**** or ****
*** with Beth
Just remember its not fiction
That disease you have is called addiction

See it works in such a horrid way
It controls you'r thoughts and what you say
And when it comes down to the end of the day
You probably going to do what it takes to pay
© Zachary J Morsette 2013
Bison Jul 2016
Giving in to making small talk chatter.
Collateral atoms scatter over my head
Perfect pitter pattered patterns.

Behind my eyes grey matter
That feels in tatters
After it burned out the rafters.

Is my skull getting fatter?
Madder than your favorite hatter.
And I won't get an ever after.

Never been a dodge drafter
I meant a draft dodger. (cue the laughter)

Who makes taffy taffer?
And who made Daffy dafter?
Bugs and carrots for my Satur-
Day morning napper.

Paint splattered pancake batter.
Knife and fork clatter.
Belly never felt so dapper.

If I had to choose I choose Venonat, er
I meant you Pikachu! (What a Knee slapper!)

Always been a little scrapper
Even when I was bigger batter.

And I don't know no pastor
But I got the spirit moving faster.

Probably should've been a future rapper
But I could never be a present wrapper
And I'm more wrapped up in the past four
Years that were snatched by time snatchers.

But now I'm bored by this rhyme planner
So I'm gonna go get a snack or
Lawrence Hall Sep 2018
Changing the channels in the middle of the night
Mixing old plots into a new program
Ugatti sells tickets to an illegal fight
Another quarter for the juke box, Sam

Patrick McGoohan strides angrily into Rick’s
But finds that he has lost his credit card
Vultures, vultures everywhere, Number Six
Ilsa falls for Major Strasser quite hard

Rick’s Place is purchased by Raymond Massey
And Leonard Cohen in his famous blue coat
Emails of transit from Kate Beckinsale, so classy -
‘Tis she who leaves poor Rick that rain-stained note

And Captain Reynaud?

He ends his days pushing each shopping cart
In from the parking lot down at Wal-Mart
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Michael Marchese Nov 2018
An acquired taste
No doubt it takes
Some time to wait
Until it seems to make
You crave it
Savor every flavor
Mixed together on the plate
A flat and fluffy,
Full of grainy
Goodness, sourdough pancake
You rip and tear it,
Often share it
Rarely in the gorsha form
But wash your hands before you dare it
Grin and bare this culture norm
Donna Sep 2018
Red bright green purple
orange black blue beige red white!
Gafetti colours

makes the world a nice
pleasent place to be , people
walk by in bubbles

An old Matress leans
up against silver fencing
Waiting to be gone

Twinkle twinkle star
Up above the sky so high
Tis a cloudy day

The sky is grey , the
sun as vanished , yet the trees
are still blossming

Little brown leaves , Tis
time to fall , fall gently on
pavements of solid

Yee up we go to
the clouds filled with rain , twinkle
it does when it falls

Loving the texture
of old house bricks , flat as a
perfect made pancake

Little birds they fly
upon a tree of berries
Singing sugar songs

O twinkle twinkle
there's a big crane in distance
What a lovely day
Out with my Dean his estimating a job in waiting in van for him , so I decided to write this poem with my spare minutes ** sight seeing with a touch of nonsense I thinks :))
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
.if, and however many mistakes i made in typo... attempting to compete with Spawn, using the black panther... ******, please... it's like that "healthy" competition of butter, using margarine... Black Panther isn't Spawn... Spawn is... Spawn... yeah... thanks for ruining my 12" wish fetish... i was so dying... to... i was never going to **** an English girl to begin with... thank god.

you're seriously going
to "correct" me
using black panther....
spawn was the *******
to what....
to whatever you're
doing these days....
i don't want to be
the blank panther...
**** being black panther...
i want to be spawn"..
******* quasi-******...
john coltrane...
you a *mariah carey

back-up singer or some
otherwise alien whacky
compared to spawn...
the black panther
looks like a ******* ******....
wing guy...
for what's deemed
mire like bleak Parthenon...
some columns,
no spirals...
  waste of time...
      black Panther, what?
so Spawn...
           was just a waste of time?
Spawn was the gran-daddy
where the Batman was the daddy
given the Joker
was the gran-gran-daddy...
you get me?
Miles Davis too much for you?
the blank panther is such
a ***** move...
it's like... come Kosovo...
when expecting Sarajevo...
******... this **** will not
high flying ****
if you think this will become
a ******* pancake...
   no, ******...
take your blank panther back
to Yakanda, or whatever...
your Spawn was cooler than
Lego Batman...
              **** your white *****...
and leave me to my existentialism
of... making a "heroic" exit..
akin to Elvis...
but more or less minding
Roy Orbison in a sing along.

lego batman movie quote:
black panther *****!
spawn go go go! spammy!
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Sweeter* than* wait I am starting
to melt like a____?
             Royal Jam
  Scarlet Movie Oh!  I don't give a
The Milkman versus My Breadman
How can I decide I feel I am
going to faint

Such a quaint picnic was "Hot Epic"
       My biggest fan is my
    Going public like a stand up comic

All stereotypes happiness
        is a warm bread

Any way you slice it love it
Even going out of our head
The war going on
Hello Vietnam
Be my *Grand Slam

Have difficulty with everything
Melting our hearts those
"Good Eat" the luckiest people
But it's us the ordinary people
No time to brag or boost
who believes
everything is extraordinary
take a bow

Feeling tired give me a bat and ball
My big hit  built me a buttercup bed

I love the sweet warm toast
With my butter spread that
dash of sea salt the most
What was truly said in
your opinion no one's fault
Justice For All so stop
feeling guilty

Or in the presence of someone, you
didn't love at all

End of the reign beginning of
Melted candle dripping softly
like I apple butter he texted me
His ears were full of wax

Moms and
their daughters play
dressed up Dads and sons
  kickball having a meltdown
Of timeless bills no bread lines
Kings and Queens love their crowns
Love those quilts of corals
Soft as butter what morals

It's time for Hellman's
mayonnaise sandwich
What a dilemma
Every morning she is eating
Cream of wheat like a blob
Of farina
Kansas City here she comes

She loves her buttered popcorn
Poppy seed bagel was
near her acorns
We used to be human now
  An Army of Robots
Keep your enemies closer
If you truly love her

Robin Hood of the thieves

She got Gingersnapped
Melted finger-mapped
Crusty Baguette's French lip
lemon creme
Those marionettes caused
a scene

Butterscotch candy sugar cookies  
cleaning up your
computer meet "Ms." Butterworth"
The worst shes ever has seen

She is sitting in the country
southern style
the dining room
Doing banana splits boiling
egg yolks Mcdonalds pancake
with Old folks

And cartwheels Moms always
wearing her buttercream heels
More room buttercream paint
And so toxic she zooms

What a silly goose with hens
He is hiding his eyes like
a fugitive he was blind getting
melted by so many lovers
Buttery slippery hearts

Jumping like Jack Rabbits melting a
white picket fence no nonsense
This bread and butter hold me closer
Everyone is looking
like a stranger
Almost every morning new
improved bread love pusher
Fresh taste and another lover
Uptown girl left her catcher of
the rye bread on used up counter
Seeing too many piano players
of Billies, she was getting a
Bread hot fever

Take me to *
Panera Bread
Cyborgs the pig and whistle 
beer and nuts melted butter pretzels
The Alien like a damsel in distress
Like a heart of the shamrock
What a lucky piece Irish bread
The Queen red wine and
On her musical chair
Milk and honey not your
Unicorn Pony quick kick
then melt me in my sleep

Ancient rocks up her castle
Sipping her hot spell word
Secrets of all tattle tales
In her coffee, he smiles with
French croissant like a sergeant
Bread melted her butter lips
The very first time she
ever saw his face
There were more excursions
but no excuses to
butter up my Prince
How our bread is buttered or so soft but sweet like out Mother and  her lovers' chef knife left her salted the stars upon them a temptation to move on soft heartedly
To be loved you feel squashed in between there is always a shining light we see them differently let's not cause such a scene
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.i'm still an advocate of caesarean section... i believe in animal rights... it's just plain cruel exposing a European ****** to a pan-African phallus of a fetus head ****... isn't it ****, "technically"? **** me... forget the ******* ****, the latex... the ****** *******... one pregnant women *******, and talking Freudian implosion will do.

personally? i hardly think
******* **** is what men turn
to when excavating

ever watched
while filming themselves?!

ever watch pregnant women
themselves *******?

in the beginning there
was the word,
and the word was god...

you hear the talking
of pregnant woman *******?!

**** me...
who the **** needs ******* ***...
when you can *******
to a pregnant woman...
jerking off, talking "*****",
paradoxes of Freud
about her yet to be born
watching her *******...

    who the **** needs
******* ****...
just watch a pregnant woman *******....

oath of god...
   hand on my heart...
     it doesn't actually encompass a
desire for intricacies of latex...

            just a pregnant woman
*** mad... *** mad...
            *** mad...
            ******* *** mad as ****...
  Freud? pale as an uncooked
pancake dough...
   the **** that comes out
from the mouth of a pregnant
woman *******...

believe me...
  i ****** off to one of them doing it
nice try... thinking
a man would turn to *******

  can't turn to more *******,
than a pregnant woman,
while talking, Oedipal,
            try... try, ******!
try to bash that fact out
of existence!
Bea Feb 2
When the fat vegan says she’s a vegan no one believes her
People offer her chocolate to see if she’ll *****
Fat and vegan aren’t words that coincide
It’s like a pancake covered in hot sauce

When the fat vegan walks into the grocery store to buy some produce people think good she needs it
But fat vegan doesn’t feel fat
She likes her shirt tucked in
Sleeves short
Shorts on
The fat vegan loves apple slices and kale salad long showers and a purple lipstick.

Fat vegan eats what she likes
She feels dainty and light
Finally small
Rightfully at home in a sweatshirt
Fat vegan floats through the world as the woman she longs to resemble
But on the inside
Reality creeps back in front of her only in a side glance in a window,
A judgment from a stranger.

Fat vegan has been taught to fit in not stretch out taking up more space is selfish being loud is obnoxious living a magnificent life is too loud
But fat vegan dreams of endless love and long walks  
She finally learns what love means
Being happy on the inside defiant of the world
She knows how strong she is so she continues to float through the world
I am happy
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.'ere's a new 'un... hi'yah Oreo... hi'yah chockie; how's that?! any better? any more new ninja for the niq'b? no good? you're worse than ******... apparently there's no way to appease these people! they're all little Hitlers to begin with!

i drink, i fall down the stairs,
i flip a ******* pancake...
big deal...
   there's always the outlasting
expectation of a tomorrow...
drinking... hmm...
what if i'm not bashing
a woman about...
instead commenting
on the curry i just cooked
for my mother, like was Ed Gein
it "suddenly" became silly to be
of natural birth parameters...
suddenly being naturally born
became a disability...
free ride amputee if you haven't
been born via a ****...
yeah... well *******
gonna go against everything decent
in our lives?
yes? no?
yes no? yes no? no yes? no yes?
yes no yes no no no yes no yes?!
make your, ******* mind up!
black panther *****...
i want to be Spawn rather than
the ****'s this ****...
howlin' wolf?!
(but Batman has the better jokes...
what's your super-power?
i'm rich... ha ha...
can''t beat that ****-oh-oh...
turn Morse into Braille...
i dare y'ah; giggles... abrupt).
so the Gen Z are the flashy new
   so the Millennial pundits
are still milking that cwowd?
the ones who... have...
no... knowledge... of the... workforce?
those cool kids?!
             wait... giggles a'coming...
ah ha ha ha ha ha ha!
it's U2... hold me, thrill me,
kiss me, **** me...
gen Z?
         as served up by millennial
you're kidding, right?!
money who money what?!
   the punchline comes with....
me? aging to the prune ripe age of 70
like my communist party member
grandfather with a retirement
    i don't want to make it past
****... **** hitting 40!
i want the African subscript of life...
give me the life expectancy of some random
reduce me to an obstacle...
and let's get it over and done wtith...
i'm done...
            i'm engaged in the dodo project...
i'm through with what's currently happening,
what Nietzsche called:
imagine, speaking for the entire human race...
               i'll drink my beer,
live my life, die by death...
   well... it's your ***** donation
to the infertility bank, isn't it?
so why should i care?!

- i'm pretty sure that backdoor man,
originally sung by howlin' wolf,
covered by the doors..
was about **** ***....
then again... who gives a ****
whether i'm right or wrong...
i'm pretty sure that i don't -

rizzle kicks -
  mama do the **** -

where are all the progressive
leftists, etc. and more etc.
going to get their counter
  when the standards,
the right-wing woks,
the whites
are bred out?
cannibal cannibal cannibal
that ******* down?!
let's see how Samuel Jackson
feels about his pretty dough
feels about dating
            the next Lebanese
liberal cousin...
please... breed the stereotype out...
the o' whitey...
  breed us out...
find the next fertile ground
for the next shock offense
   harvest of turnip-heads...

**** me... i'm digging this sort
of ****...
   i'll do the dodo dance...
you do the:
coming from the semi-caste
new brigade of offense central...
******, come, come;
i wanna see the new rainbow
juice... and...
whatever their dependency is
to don the straitjacket,
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.aye aye... trí turds... wha'? three turds... huh? tree thirds... oh paddy paddy paddy... τo 'ινκ ιτ θρoυ(γɥ)... you might 'ave even brought ubout a a taught - naught - a thought.

but but... but...
Poland is so unwelcoming?!


   no attachments
of a post-colonial narrative...

oh... and the language
is hard to learn...

    by all means,
  we've had the Nazis,
we've had the three-headed Hydra
of Prussia,
  Russia and Austro-Hungary...

we've had the Communists...
oh i'm pretty sure we
can accommodate Islam...
along with the scuttling
of the gutter...

            we are a people,
and WE, as a people:
owe you nothing!
  take your British empire postscriptum
elsewhere, eat and ****
there, and don't come back...

i'll appropriate this native spreschen,
i'll speak it...
but don't you come around here
supposing i'll "think"
like you do...

      funny... well... not really...
Dublin was never to become the second

        but whenever I hear an Eire man
  there's that diacritical excuse of
    paddy paddy paddy potato
paddy paddy paddy mac (protestant)
mc (catholic) Doug -
      la la paddy paddy woo! wooooooo!

no, thank you...
  we've had the Nazis -
we've had the Communists -
thankfully all the Polish economic migrants
are returning home...
   thanks for being treated like
some sort of, quasi Roma...
   no problem... we can go back
to a homeland, given that we're actually
less victors, and more inheritors -
   the Marshall Plan...
      if only the H'americans reached
Berlin first...
there would be no Warsaw pact...
by the way...
   i thought Sweden and Switzerland
remained neutral?
  so why pay them the Marshall Plan

       oh, but please...
move to Poland...
        see how long you'll survive...
         that feral land of lost
        i don't mind...
   language might be a problem...
English isn't exactly pop
outside the confines of a
Jean Claude van Damme movie...

        but go on... try...
            you'd find more success in
catching a floater's worth of a ****
than exercising any
     chance to subvert the reigning

  bo? (because)?
   i'll integrate -
             (ja wtopie się w tą kulture) -
but - ale -
on one condition -
    w ramach jednej potrzzeby -
i'll retain my birth-tongue -
ja zachowam swój zór!

i'd never trust immigrants,
economic or refugee,
if they do not retain their mother tongue -
if they can't construct
   they're rotten fruit...

   i'm not here to be nice -
zapomnienia mówienia po
   i forgot how to speak Polish...
rotten fruit,
attempting integration too hard...
you can't forget
your native tongue,
just like you can't forget
riding a bicycle or

            the argument stinks of
i hate it...
    i'd expect a jew to make
this sort of argument,
rightfully so...
     i can't imagine the heartache
of having invested so much
Hebrew in German to create
   a Jew i can understand...
       but some ******* Pakistani
suggests he has, on "purpose"
forgotten Urdu,
and speaks only English?

   sum? terrorist...
     no man is born without either
a linguistic, or a cultural integrity -
prior to the cuisine,
the language dies...
but then the cuisine never dies...
neither does the language -
and if the language is "dead":
the mentality remains...

         you smell something?
   hmm... i'll speak English, i'll write
English... but i'll think in my
Western Slavic guise...
ah... sorry i'm not copper-skinned
wishing for an Indian suntan
of the lower-caste...
you're standing ****-***** in terms
of orthography - as a language -
and you're over-laden with metaphysics...
sure as **** a satan will come around
dressed in either paupers' rags
or a gentleman's nightgown;

    as i still begin, persistent -
in telling you...
a man who does not have enough
ethnic pride, in retaining, and keeping,
a language his mother used to
lullaby by him to sleep,
into his later years?
   a person, who cannot accommodate
        trust score? ZEE-RHO.

i much abhor the Scots and the Eire men,
as much as i admire the Welsh
for priding themselves on
retaining Cymru -
                      no Gaelic?
   no pass...
                 English is a mongrel language...
who gives a ****?
  some Shanghai
         half-wit economics student speaks
    lingua franca...
                       thus that i have
to admire... the Welsh...
     and their version of YHWH:
that... takes *****...
         the Welsh could look into
Kashubian and Silesian Polish to boot.
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2018
.how similar does the braille N(⠝) represent the Hebrai lamed (ל), fascinating, the, similarity, isn't it?

it just so happens that i enjoy music too much, to listen to the anglophone arguments of existential-Darwinism... the whole Hitchens "thing" concerning eternity only being experienced via the passing of genes... sure, sure... no problem... English existentialism is so... so... pish-*******-poor that i don't know whether to abrupt myself of sanity by wetting myself, or take another drink... i guess the whole, French, cafe culture... and what, with the English pub... Darwinism has a reality, in science... applied-Darwinism, or rather, an over-bearing presence of Darwinism in the humanities? monkey say, in braille: ⠃⠕⠗⠊⠝⠛    ⠁⠎        ⠋⠥⠉⠅.

in the good old days of
the Catholic Reneissance...
  so now i'm supposed to listen
to these pampered western european
telling me...
  i need to watch the only
***** available...
which includes making fun of
the size of my *****?
while she ***** a black guy?
you sure... sure you you want
to tread these waters?
can i compliment the *******
armchair of an ***
attached to a black woman's
  like cedric of wessex stated:
we don't mix with these
why am i supposed to sit
out through this ordeal
like some cockload *******
spank face?
****... you're on your own
from here, (as a *** might
say) darling...
the star in my starless night sky!
and people thought that
the Catholic restrictions were bad...
um um um...
nail-biting moment:
and the secular feminists
do not employ a more fervor imbued
reinterpretation of ***,
via secular feminism?!
        just give me access to
a Bulgarian ******* twice
a year and £220 skim...
     which includes no worry
about S.T.D.s...
             given, we're latex friendly,
and ****** prone...
i never imagined an S.T.D.
as being ingested via oral ***...
****... £10 extra... make that £240 a year...
two ***** and happy and a *******
flock of seagulls... hey presto!
- but there's no *******...
         i ****, i leave, suave perfume
of a woman's flesh...
i skip taking a shower for about
three days...
             life becomes rosy as ****
on steroids...
          back in the day...
the Catholics...
    jeez! the guilt from fornication...
but now? now?!
now is worse...
              i have to sit through a lecture
course about how white western women
prefer a big fat black ****...
   a B.F.B.B. -
   well... better than what jerking off
probably feels like doing ****:
i.e. banging the ******* hole
   (B.B.B.H.) -
              you know... the white guys who
engage in this sort of ****...
i wouldn't touch someone
with a ******* fetish...
   but these *******?
              i'm licking a shaving razor
and thinking of ******...
western women...
          and their little carousel run of things...
they ****** monologues and
their ***** windmills...
   like **** me reproducing with them...
i entertain the presence of
prostitutes: so am i bothered about
promiscuity?! no!
            but when you read
some Marquis de Sade...
      you spot the sadists, and the masochists...
    i once deemed it necessary to
put out four cigarettes on the tips of
my knuckles...
  well... i was never into tattoos...
i guessed... if i punch someone with my
left arm... they might be punched
with a lesson in arithmetic to boot!
honey, hush...
   i'm not your daddy...
feel free... enjoy...
            but i'm not going to have anything
of worth, having to associate with you...
hey... they weren't wrong
in the movie get out...
         i look at it as...
"migrant crisis"... crisis?!
         it's an army of marching ******!
but no... you don't begin your
command of argument...
elevating the original Catholic guilt
concerning ***...
   no chance, in ****... oh... wait...
this is ****...given that Catholicism has
been translated into
a secular most-modernist  (here comes
the verbiage) feminist "theory"...
so basically nuns 'r' us...
                     you do whatever the ****
you want with your ******* feminist males...
hard-on slaps in the face...
last time i heard...
the ancient Greeks thought that
enlarged phallus end-to-ends-meat...
(yeah yeah, no, not EE via a ******'s...
"floral" pattern!)
                  were a sign of barbarism...
wait... could it possibly be that
i write... but can't read?!
               my my...
   i take out my frustration on
a bottle of bourbon, *** or whiskey,
or *****...
      after a while...
            it all sounds the same:
   a swift return toward a sweet,
                                                          ­  lullaby.

p.s. i didn't say that Darwinism was
wrong... but after you've read
some French existentialism,
   or esp. German existentialism...
you've already accepted the facts...
and move... forward...
             the encompassing mantra of
yes, yes, no....
    the no... arising from post-modernism...
or whatever the scholastic term
     all of a sudden people
are focusing on the usage of both
nouns, and pronouns...
     just two, just two grammatical
categories of words...
              apparently language has
become a pancake reality,
squashed... and it didn't even require
a dictator to perform this "magic trick"...
and i was considered mad
about 10 years ago...
        i'm not about to join
this ******* circus...
   no acrobats, no lions,
no clowns...
                                i think i'll pass.
James Khan Sep 2018
use concealer, try to to hide it,

wear the cake that no-one shares

and place the lotion (in the basket),

fix the hair with starched repairs

now line the eyes like graves in waiting,

mask the scar, annoint the eyes,

the proud pretences elevating

self-esteem through prettied lies,
Women don't need makeup. They just need to recognise that beauty isn't skin deep.
I wear out my Armenian welcome with Yugoslavical push while my
sewn structures spin spastical, stewing several suppers spasmodical
Waffles got me a beatin' at a post-teen pancake party when I was 11
by post-teen thugs ruled by their post-teen **** leader named Kevin
years after Mia Farrow ****** the harmonically-stiff André Previn
as documented by pornographical documentarian Georgina Spelvin
who inserted into her pink taco a Rollex watch & 1 shelf of shelvin'
'cause she enjoyed the island hospitality of prostitutes Austronesian
when she was dragging over coals Tony Robbins' ***** Australasian
Graff1980 Dec 2018
White haired head
leans in
to his hands
to hide the tears
that threaten
to swallow
the last bits
of his resilience.

An American tragedy
all those families
crying out loud,
what a shame
for America the proud.

An anti-Semite
takes another life

skin head,

neo ****,

and the president
panders to them
with hidden
nods to
the ideas
they salute.

Makes me
want to puke,
or drop from a plane
with no parachute
because these dudes
have no compassion,
and smashing
my body into the
form of a pancake
might make
people take

— The End —