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"peats" poems
Let us Rise and Rejoice for the Wise Controllers of the Streets Please give praise for the Keepers of Asinine Righteousness Who have the power to read our minds easy as giving sweets Esteemed Professors who are  World Experts with Greatness In Neuro-linguistic programming and know all the upbeats For example anybody with working eyes can see with no cheats The woman's complexions is not Black even without clearness Alas I make a joke and  lightheartedly say its Black in mirths Nobel NLP Programmers jump in glee and frenzied eagerness That is Trigger to void progressive actions with that lady petite So Professors et vacuous masses devoid of brains go on heats Sprinkling Blacks all over in project as useless as their dumbness Tell not dorks I do not see her as black in any way but a tease Another deluded wasted efforts from the addicted mindlesses The poor lass graced with honey-gold skin tone is not for meets Crass semi-illiterates play mind games on levels of bog peats Psychotic obsessed nonentities with deluded tendentiousness As if there's a meeting of minds with piffling anodyne greats Dumbos declaring we are playing with your mind in earness Show me how a genius compares with Quixotic foolishness
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Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 2:27 PM UTC
Bwana...Our Wise Rulers....lol.
Brewing your bitter sap From the sour, dank sod In which your feet Are so comfortably shod Silk purse made from the bile Of good-for-nothing land Your are on the river In the bog early green A smile on Spring's young face Russet tines raking winter's putty Bearded bonsai of icy summits Run-maker on summer greens Webster-woven into creels For peats, and baskets For logs of firewood types Promise me a sprig of ***** Willow Almost a tree A match for any tree
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Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 6:11 AM UTC
Subtle is the Willow
Never seen one this lovely, gladdened with the purity of the midnight rain, magnificent she is in all her graces The whirlwind gave way when her haunches swayed With palms as soft as the pine, a touch from them sent me on a flight of fantasy Her peats stood firm as the atlas To honey no other compare,for it is the sweetest but then you should taste her rosy lips  And if the zephyrus was mild, then you should hear her speak The stars were bright but her eyes were the brightest for in them I saw the reason for rainbows Her face shone so much radiance like the full moon at the peak of her aphrodisiac   Every wisp of her hair was of the finest silk and when she smiled the world took form Her aura so distinct as the scented ointment of spikenard This beauty is all I want to know,for it ignites a quivering sensation in my bones springing forth the passions of my meek soul For you I would pick the roses of the empyrean
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Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 5:39 PM UTC
Grandeur of a lady
hung your reflection upon our cave the moonshine, the tiny peats you only exist in these natural rags – it smells like incense and I am so alone.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
abandon