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"pervert" poems
At the Zoo Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize Preludes to the parades and finale above us all Weeks of saturated irony Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs Then gunpowder Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos Layers of streets in gunpowder Towns built of gunpowder Sky is gunpowder We are born addicted to led and gunpowder Gunpowder ****** in the air Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest. The Grand Finale The Volta of the evening The hammer of the judge *** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-   show us some skin! Covering your ears Eyes fastened- Ready to burrow back to mothers womb Binged and free Chinese celebration hijacked Red, White and Blue And a moment of silence   Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven Chorus of arousal on Earth Band marching war machines in hell The showdown of 241 years! This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about Only free to battle shackling intoxication Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring Sulking for indoors and portable addiction   Chanting three letter obedience God being counted by his blessings Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll; liberty synonyms. Arresting the too free At the Zoo, The cuckoos regaining reality. The phoenix red eye and held under oath To the next day where we are back To hate each others freedom, again.
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Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 1:31 AM UTC
4
At the Zoo Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize Preludes to the parades and finale above us all Weeks of saturated irony Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs Then gunpowder Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos Layers of streets in gunpowder Towns built of gunpowder Sky is gunpowder We are born addicted to led and gunpowder Gunpowder ****** in the air Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest. The Grand Finale The Volta of the evening The hammer of the judge *** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles-   show us some skin! Covering your ears Eyes fastened- Ready to burrow back to mothers womb Binged and free Chinese celebration hijacked Red, White and Blue And a moment of silence   Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven Chorus of arousal on Earth Band marching war machines in hell The showdown of 241 years! This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about Only free to battle shackling intoxication Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring Sulking for indoors and portable addiction   Chanting three letter obedience God being counted by his blessings Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll; liberty synonyms. Arresting the too free At the Zoo, The cuckoos regaining reality. The phoenix red eye and held under oath To the next day where we are back To hate each others freedom, again.
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47
Christmas is traditions some last and others die some leave you feeling fuzzy others leave you asking "Why?" There's rules that must be followed And most of them we know About gifts and cards and Christmas trees and then there's mistletoe.... We all know the tradition We all know what it is You meet under the berries And then you both must kiss But, there's etiquette surrounding The dreaded mistletoe And there are things you aren't aware of And I thought you all should know.... Always kiss your Aunties Do it quick and on the cheek Their lips are full of slobber and sometimes they just reek Grandmas, get a quick kiss And ignore the sounds they make Don't hug Grannies too tightly They are brittle and might break Avoid the pervert Uncles With hands and eyes that roam They act one way at Christmas And another way at home The little kids, won't kiss you So, it's fun to give them chase Make sure there's lots of slobber So, they can wipe it off their face Make sure kissing Grandad That he has got his teeth That they're not somewhere in a glass or worse, smiling from a wreath Always kiss your Mum though Beware, Mums will always cry and they will get you going too No matter how hard you try Kiss the one you came with Let them know just how you feel That your love for them's eternal And your love for them is real Kissing is tradition and at Christmas can be great But, don't kiss all the women And forget about your date The most important rule of all If you don't want your bell rung When kissing 'neath the mistletoe DO NOT USE THE TONGUE
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Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
Mistletoe Etiquette
Christmas is traditions some last and others die some leave you feeling fuzzy others leave you asking "Why?" There's rules that must be followed And most of them we know About gifts and cards and Christmas trees and then there's mistletoe.... We all know the tradition We all know what it is You meet under the berries And then you both must kiss But, there's etiquette surrounding The dreaded mistletoe And there are things you aren't aware of And I thought you all should know.... Always kiss your Aunties Do it quick and on the cheek Their lips are full of slobber and sometimes they just reek Grandmas, get a quick kiss And ignore the sounds they make Don't hug Grannies too tightly They are brittle and might break Avoid the pervert Uncles With hands and eyes that roam They act one way at Christmas And another way at home The little kids, won't kiss you So, it's fun to give them chase Make sure there's lots of slobber So, they can wipe it off their face Make sure kissing Grandad That he has got his teeth That they're not somewhere in a glass or worse, smiling from a wreath Always kiss your Mum though Beware, Mums will always cry and they will get you going too No matter how hard you try Kiss the one you came with Let them know just how you feel That your love for them's eternal And your love for them is real Kissing is tradition and at Christmas can be great But, don't kiss all the women And forget about your date The most important rule of all If you don't want your bell rung When kissing 'neath the mistletoe DO NOT USE THE TONGUE
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Ben Kowalewicz (spoken): Hi, my name is Ben Kowalewicz and this is Billy Talent. Well I tripped, I fell down naked I drank from a cup of lead I hugged a skunk, it peed on me Yesterday I joined Scientology Steal a Camaro, then **** Jack Sparrow Try stupid **** try stupid **** Jump in a dump truck, smell **** and get stuck I cannot read, I cannot read **** on computers, then drink some pewter Die sanity, die sanity Marry a cheapskate, gain ninety pounds weight I'm really dumb, I'm really dumb I'm stupid, it's my fault, so daft I like to play in the garbage shaft The best sport is Parkour, **** straight I arrive at work five hours late Drink a deep fryer, eat some barbed wire Try stupid **** try stupid **** Sleep in a fireplace, burn your entire face I cannot read, I cannot read Cinnamon challenge, go on a chalk binge Die sanity, Die sanity Bike into traffic, pose pornographic I'm a ******* I'm a ******* I ate some poo! I'm stupid, it's my fault Try I'm stupid, it's my fault Lie This bad song don't make sense Pie Get a Prince Albert, snake blood for dessert now? Drink some Everclear, cut off your own ear now? Go back in time to, forties as a Jew Try stupid **** try stupid **** Do *** and rip off your right knee I cannot read, I cannot read Find the KKK, put on some blackface Die sanity, die sanity Locate a pervert, then take off your shirt I am a twit, I am a twit I am a twit, I am a twit Try stupid **** try stupid **** I am a twit, I am a twit
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May 27, 2012
May 27, 2012 at 6:15 PM UTC
Try Stupid **** a Billy Talent parody
Mozart, deaf, died, eventually. Picasso, pervert, died; Whitney, Winehouse, drugs, dead; Elvis, Methamphetamine, died (on the toilet). Van Gogh, missing an earlobe, died. Plath, head in an oven, in front of her kids, Woolf Patron saint of insanity, I guess waded into a river and- River. River Phoenix. Drugs. Natalie Merchant wrote that song about him in 1995. Flash forward. Me, twenty-one, drunk. Proprietor of a collection of lackluster poems. Sold their small, nonbinary soul to the Devil in exchange for a fortune, gone.
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Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
The Greatests (Predictions)
He's a freshman. Does that make me a pervert? A junior would be fine, A sophomore isn't too bad; But he's a freshman. If I was a guy and he were a girl,      Would I feel less weird? Am I a cougar? Because I'm a senior, and He's a freshman.
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
He's A Freshman
Pervert I'm a womanizer and a pervert, love to mingle, love to flirt. Like Fonzi, all chicks flock, they like the size of my clock. Ever since I was born, loved naked women and **** Nothing like playing with my favorite toy, with the newest edition of ******* Sorry I have a ***** little mind, all men do, women don't be blind. Lots of women have tried to convert me, but a fun loving pervert, I will always be. Been with a **** been with a ***** only difference is, the **** wants more. Been with singers, actresses and models, done it underwater, with a snorkel and goggles. Been with a doctor, lawyer and a crook, each time, I somehow got took. I'm a pervert it a good way, just some innocent ****** foreplay. If you ever see me, I'm not threat, they haven't invented x-ray glasses yet. I now have a woman I really love, all other women, I got rid of, Gave my black book to a kid named Bieber, now he's in jail and feeling very eager.
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
Pervert
Tongue in cheek I detest you Hand over foot Make a peep ***** And I promise I'll ****** you Bad tact I'm a cesspool Festering in the nestle of your daughter's well developing ******* Everyday I follow her home from school This unnerving pervert unearthing fervor making ya catatonic & giving your heart murmurs Nurture the thought It's just the tip (Of the iceberg) Gotta stir the paint before you make a mural Ma'am, I'll purloin your ham purse until my burial Don't be a sourpuss It's final I'm vile And I swear I'm not a ********* Want some candy?
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Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 7:23 AM UTC
Creeper
You were like a natural disaster to our lives. While we played in a field. No warning. You appeared... You struck and we lay scattered on that field... In tears. Confused. In pain. Broken inside out. No longer just children. Victims to young to understand that we were forever changed. To young to understand why we felt ***** and guilty. The threats and fear, made us silent... Fear and interrogation made me lie. You left us in that open space forever, no matter where we went. And our lives were taken... Our parents were broken, because parents break when thier children are hurt. And my lie... My lie forever changed my protectors life. My fear made me hurt another. We were so young... Some not old enough for school. Our fear allowed the disaster to strike others... Now as adults we know a new guilt. But we were so young. This very unnatural disaster still walks the earth... Somebody gives this pervert comfort... But we are forever changed. Stronger today, yes... But never again as free as before he stole our innocence. This disaster turned our world upside down, and revisited us for years taking more of us each time he put his disgusting hands on us. I'm not to religious, but I believe in God. I have yet to know the reason for this, except that we are great protective parents... And as I believe there's a God... I know there is also a hell. And while God tells us to forgive... I have yet to forgive even myself for being so full of fear, because it allowed him to walk free and hurt us again and again, and others through time. There is no part of us sacred or untouched by that evil... No matter who knows our story, there's no person not even eachother who understands the depth of our individual torment. The unfair torture of feeling an isolated, unexplainable, personal  taste of evil. Like a natural disaster, he struck us down... Children at play made victims of a child molester. Survivor's! Of a sick family member's distgusting taste for extremely young children. We can't say we are ok. We refuse to say you are anything more then a creature that has not yet met God's wrath. And dare not say, you to know abuse... Dare not say you found God... God and abuse will find you when your six feet under. I know I sin as I write this... But to forgive... As a mother myself... Well that's it's not in me. Do unto others... Do unto others, that's how I live.
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Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 6:21 PM UTC
Unnatural Disaster
You were like a natural disaster to our lives. While we played in a field. No warning. You appeared... You struck and we lay scattered on that field... In tears. Confused. In pain. Broken inside out. No longer just children. Victims to young to understand that we were forever changed. To young to understand why we felt ***** and guilty. The threats and fear, made us silent... Fear and interrogation made me lie. You left us in that open space forever, no matter where we went. And our lives were taken... Our parents were broken, because parents break when thier children are hurt. And my lie... My lie forever changed my protectors life. My fear made me hurt another. We were so young... Some not old enough for school. Our fear allowed the disaster to strike others... Now as adults we know a new guilt. But we were so young. This very unnatural disaster still walks the earth... Somebody gives this pervert comfort... But we are forever changed. Stronger today, yes... But never again as free as before he stole our innocence. This disaster turned our world upside down, and revisited us for years taking more of us each time he put his disgusting hands on us. I'm not to religious, but I believe in God. I have yet to know the reason for this, except that we are great protective parents... And as I believe there's a God... I know there is also a hell. And while God tells us to forgive... I have yet to forgive even myself for being so full of fear, because it allowed him to walk free and hurt us again and again, and others through time. There is no part of us sacred or untouched by that evil... No matter who knows our story, there's no person not even eachother who understands the depth of our individual torment. The unfair torture of feeling an isolated, unexplainable, personal  taste of evil. Like a natural disaster, he struck us down... Children at play made victims of a child molester. Survivor's! Of a sick family member's distgusting taste for extremely young children. We can't say we are ok. We refuse to say you are anything more then a creature that has not yet met God's wrath. And dare not say, you to know abuse... Dare not say you found God... God and abuse will find you when your six feet under. I know I sin as I write this... But to forgive... As a mother myself... Well that's it's not in me. Do unto others... Do unto others, that's how I live.
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*** *** *** ba-dum da-dum] The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand and he said to the man running the stand... "HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any ***** The man said "Go away you filthy perv." "Cocktails is all I've ever served!" "Why don't you take a hike?" The Cuck said "Go ***** a **** The he strutted away! [struttin' struttin'] He gotta get paid! [by the hour] Gotta go to work! [at Trump Tower] ... 'Til the very next day. *** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum] The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand and he slapped his **** onto the stand... "HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any ******* The man balled his fists and said... "Why don't you go get a pocket toy and ***** that you filthy pervert who can't get laid so he comes and bothers the cocktail man because he has no game! How about you go to another bar and stop acting LAME!" The Cuck said "Your sister wasn't lame." Then he zipped up his pants [waddle waddle] as he strutted away [got the zipper stuck] but that's all okay [showing off the package] Till the very next day. *** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum] The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand and he said to the man running the stand... "HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any ****** The man got ****** then he started to smile. "Come on, fellow! I bet you haven't had ***** in a while." Then they strutted away [my **** itches] but that's okay [they don't care they're ******* watch out for snitches [shut yo **** mouth] 'Till they arrived at the trap house *** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum] "Here you go sir, she'll make your **** stir She's even got a sister you can **** next to her!" The Cuck's mind began to go.... "How about.... no!" "But I like this place... It makes my heart race... and it would bring me joy.... it would make my day... do you think we could... do you THINK we could... double team your wife so you don't have to pay?!" Then he scrambled away! [zipping up his pants] The man was angry in a trance! [hope he tied his shoes] He even left the ***** [why'd you do that] Instead he ******* the Cat. *** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
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Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 9:43 PM UTC
The Cuck Song -- A Duck Song Parody [NSFW]
*** *** *** ba-dum da-dum] The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand and he said to the man running the stand... "HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any ***** The man said "Go away you filthy perv." "Cocktails is all I've ever served!" "Why don't you take a hike?" The Cuck said "Go ***** a **** The he strutted away! [struttin' struttin'] He gotta get paid! [by the hour] Gotta go to work! [at Trump Tower] ... 'Til the very next day. *** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum] The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand and he slapped his **** onto the stand... "HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any ******* The man balled his fists and said... "Why don't you go get a pocket toy and ***** that you filthy pervert who can't get laid so he comes and bothers the cocktail man because he has no game! How about you go to another bar and stop acting LAME!" The Cuck said "Your sister wasn't lame." Then he zipped up his pants [waddle waddle] as he strutted away [got the zipper stuck] but that's all okay [showing off the package] Till the very next day. *** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum] The Cuck walked up to the cocktail stand and he said to the man running the stand... "HEY!" *** *** *** "Got any ****** The man got ****** then he started to smile. "Come on, fellow! I bet you haven't had ***** in a while." Then they strutted away [my **** itches] but that's okay [they don't care they're ******* watch out for snitches [shut yo **** mouth] 'Till they arrived at the trap house *** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum] "Here you go sir, she'll make your **** stir She's even got a sister you can **** next to her!" The Cuck's mind began to go.... "How about.... no!" "But I like this place... It makes my heart race... and it would bring me joy.... it would make my day... do you think we could... do you THINK we could... double team your wife so you don't have to pay?!" Then he scrambled away! [zipping up his pants] The man was angry in a trance! [hope he tied his shoes] He even left the ***** [why'd you do that] Instead he ******* the Cat. *** *** *** *** *** ba-dum da-dum]
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I see you there on your white sand beach, in your little tight bikini. Looking like a creamy white treat. Infidel ***** Exposed skin men all ogling your body, with eyes like hands! How would you like me to take off my clothes in front of you! Touch your body, and kiss your lips! Then you would see the effect you Infidel Flaunting Sexuality! Your curvaceous body, coated in sweat from the inflamed sun. My blood boils thinking of you! I am going to **** you American! Put my tongue in your mouth, kiss you! Like you do in your pervert mind. Your naughty fantasy of naked man, kissing you on a sunny beach, tropical drink in one hand, other hand rubbing and probing my body! Infidel ***** Laying there, so **** you make me crazy! Your passion *** will burn in sinful fires, and Allah will pass judgement on your *** I will **** you, for punishment to your Infidel Flaunting Sexuality, ******* glistening, lips red as the drink you drink. Infidel *****
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Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 6:57 AM UTC
Infidel Flaunting Sexuality!
Penetrate me tight-fitting and penetrate me pinned down The lycanthropic creature you ****** This is la vie en Venus’ flytrap When you poke me, ****** moans And though I squeeze my vaginas I taste la vie en Venus’ flytrap When you ***** me abutting your ***** I’m inside a hobnobbing alien A metagalaxy where Venus’ flytraps win a beauty contest And when you ********* cyclopses moo from upstairs Heterosexual homophones seem to pervert ***** Adams Glorias Splash out your cream and gumption to me And ***** lust loosely wash La vie en Venus’ flytrap
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Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 4:06 PM UTC
La Vie En Venus’ Flytrap
By: Cedric McClester ALLAHU-AKBAR, (TRUE) GOD IS GREATER THAN THEY KNEW Or why would they do what they do And then pervert al-Islam too BISMILAH – (IN THE NAME OF ALLAH) They plant bombs inside of cars To blow up strangers near and far But they take things too ******* far AL-HUMDILILAH – (PRAISE ALLAH) But not by giving Islam a scar Who the hell they think they are Shaytan’s minions? They’re on par ASTAGFIGALAH (MAY ALLAH FORGIVE) Those not cursed by how they live Chopping heads off especially with A rusty knife known as a shiv INSHALLAH (IF IT’S ALLAH’S WILL) Those who maim and also **** Will soon be presented with the bill And their ambitions will get them nil ALLAHU-ALUM (ALLAH KNOWS BEST) The sins they will have to confess To get those sins up off their chest While facing hell fire nevertheless WALAHI (I SWEAR BY ALLAH) Hell will find them wherever they are In their homes near or far Because they have raised the bar YA-HAMUKALAH (MAY ALLAH PROTECT YOU) From those **** Who constantly beat their war drums And take advantage of the deaf blind and dumb Copyright © 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
ALLAHU-AKBAR, (TRUE)
I don't want a ********** a *** slave a ***** I don't need a housekeeper a nurse a cook I don't want a supermodel a CEO a politician I don't need an introvert an extrovert a pervert I just want someone to hold me and do my laundry (from time to time)
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Aug 24, 2010
Aug 24, 2010 at 8:16 AM UTC
Will I settle for love?
doves drowning in the storms wicked air watch with empathy as they struggle in the thrashing tides of the rainswept sky watch as the fall from grace in the warm tears of rain bernie was waiting on doomsdays last train he kept his lunch in a sack along with the face he gonna wear when he comes up fore the good lord but what worried him was if the other fella had his ticket he would toss his coin on the hand he was dealt a good man misunderstood a simple man living a complex life contortionist of the fable she wrote her own storied life on the back of a matchbook cover after all its the flame of her heart that set ablaze many a mans inner pervert she is waiting on that last train too with a devilish certainty of her destination but she aint too worried she knows hell is just like miami in july doves nestled in the hands of time make a soft sound that stirs the heart sounds like a love affair sounds like free flight on a summer breeze feels like home
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Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 5:59 PM UTC
doves drowning
You lurk in chat rooms talkin bout what you'd like to do. All naked accept for a captian's hat. Ya know after hello it's probaly not best to ask do you wanna ***** Mr pervert do you enjoy. Taking trips to mexico maybe to take in a show. Getting beat with a wire hanger being called a bad boy. Were ya born with a ***** loose? Did uncle Charlie get to friendly and papa John slip something in your juice? Do you really like farm hand dot com thats just wrong. No Mr pervert I dont wanna see pics of you covered in oil wearing a thong. And im really not into what ya can fit up your *** Glad to know what happend to that goon at the back of the class. No you cant have my number. Okay your a woodman. Please I really dont need any pics of your lumber. No I dont wanna wrestle in the dark you freak. Yes im happy you enjoy being beat every other day of the week. You really need some help. Yes I think to catch a preditor would be a great show for you to make a appearence. No I dont wanna play airlane. so ***** your clearence. Please why cant that connection to your basement just go out. Guess what your doing now. Well to be honest I know without a single doubt. I can imagine what its like to be you. well ***** that cause theres some **** so freaky even I wont do. So when ya see that name appear on the screen it's probaly best to ignor. I mean unless your really into hanging out with a lathred up nut who eats outta a dog dish apon the floor. I was flipping through the channels and to no suprize what did I see. why dateline with Chris Hanson and Mr pervert on my t.v. I had to laugh at every word said. Gooodbye Mr pervert. Didnt take a geinus to figure out you were ****** up in the head.
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Feb 17, 2010
Feb 17, 2010 at 11:33 AM UTC
MR Pervert
You lurk in chat rooms talkin bout what you'd like to do. All naked accept for a captian's hat. Ya know after hello it's probaly not best to ask do you wanna ***** Mr pervert do you enjoy. Taking trips to mexico maybe to take in a show. Getting beat with a wire hanger being called a bad boy. Were ya born with a ***** loose? Did uncle Charlie get to friendly and papa John slip something in your juice? Do you really like farm hand dot com thats just wrong. No Mr pervert I dont wanna see pics of you covered in oil wearing a thong. And im really not into what ya can fit up your *** Glad to know what happend to that goon at the back of the class. No you cant have my number. Okay your a woodman. Please I really dont need any pics of your lumber. No I dont wanna wrestle in the dark you freak. Yes im happy you enjoy being beat every other day of the week. You really need some help. Yes I think to catch a preditor would be a great show for you to make a appearence. No I dont wanna play airlane. so ***** your clearence. Please why cant that connection to your basement just go out. Guess what your doing now. Well to be honest I know without a single doubt. I can imagine what its like to be you. well ***** that cause theres some **** so freaky even I wont do. So when ya see that name appear on the screen it's probaly best to ignor. I mean unless your really into hanging out with a lathred up nut who eats outta a dog dish apon the floor. I was flipping through the channels and to no suprize what did I see. why dateline with Chris Hanson and Mr pervert on my t.v. I had to laugh at every word said. Gooodbye Mr pervert. Didnt take a geinus to figure out you were ****** up in the head.
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I see her Again I searched for her on the internet I found her She is naked Again Having *** With different people Again Why did I look for her? What was it about her? That sparked my interest Her body is nice from what I can tell But her smile Her cheek bones Here eyes Friendly looking And kind Beautiful long hair She seems so approachable I don’t know anything about her But I want to know everything This is why I don’t normally look at **** I see a face of a beautiful person And I want to know everything about her So I search And download Telling myself I am not a stalker I am not a pervert Telling myself I can be her knight in shining armor I can save her from the life she has chosen I am not a stalker I am not a pervert How long can she last? In this kind of work Before she goes crazy Before she gets used up How much money does she make? She has a twitter account I will never tweet her I am not a stalker I am not a pervert A couple of years go by I keep following her on the internet She has changed her body With plastic surgery She isn’t the innocent cute Girl/woman she was She is still doing this kind of work Why? She needs to get out She doesn’t have much time She needs to learn a skill to enter the work force I follow her on twitter She has wish list on Amazon She lets her fans buy her things I want to buy her something I don’t know why I won’t I am not a stalker I am not a pervert She is dating a man Months go by Now she is dating a woman Months go by She is retiring I am happy For her But sad because I won’t see her Her twitter account is still up She keeps taking pictures of food Months go by Now she is coming out of retirement Why She can’t It’s not healthy Then I realize I keep searching for her On the internet I’m responsible For her being in demand Myself and all her fans Why do we watch her? We are sick Chasing an image that isn’t real Her name isn’t real This is a job to her She needs money And she needs it from The pathetic losers that are her fans This is why she is in this business For the money Is so simple I’m so simple minded I begin to hate her I will never buy her anything Or ever pay for any of her content I will never tweet her Or view her again ever Never never I am free Days go by I am watching a television show The actress is beautiful I search for her on the internet I want to know everything about her.
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
Infatuated and the Gold Digger
I see her Again I searched for her on the internet I found her She is naked Again Having *** With different people Again Why did I look for her? What was it about her? That sparked my interest Her body is nice from what I can tell But her smile Her cheek bones Here eyes Friendly looking And kind Beautiful long hair She seems so approachable I don’t know anything about her But I want to know everything This is why I don’t normally look at **** I see a face of a beautiful person And I want to know everything about her So I search And download Telling myself I am not a stalker I am not a pervert Telling myself I can be her knight in shining armor I can save her from the life she has chosen I am not a stalker I am not a pervert How long can she last? In this kind of work Before she goes crazy Before she gets used up How much money does she make? She has a twitter account I will never tweet her I am not a stalker I am not a pervert A couple of years go by I keep following her on the internet She has changed her body With plastic surgery She isn’t the innocent cute Girl/woman she was She is still doing this kind of work Why? She needs to get out She doesn’t have much time She needs to learn a skill to enter the work force I follow her on twitter She has wish list on Amazon She lets her fans buy her things I want to buy her something I don’t know why I won’t I am not a stalker I am not a pervert She is dating a man Months go by Now she is dating a woman Months go by She is retiring I am happy For her But sad because I won’t see her Her twitter account is still up She keeps taking pictures of food Months go by Now she is coming out of retirement Why She can’t It’s not healthy Then I realize I keep searching for her On the internet I’m responsible For her being in demand Myself and all her fans Why do we watch her? We are sick Chasing an image that isn’t real Her name isn’t real This is a job to her She needs money And she needs it from The pathetic losers that are her fans This is why she is in this business For the money Is so simple I’m so simple minded I begin to hate her I will never buy her anything Or ever pay for any of her content I will never tweet her Or view her again ever Never never I am free Days go by I am watching a television show The actress is beautiful I search for her on the internet I want to know everything about her.
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107
A stripper does not command the same feelings when there is no music when there is rain when there is **** beneath their feet when there is no stage when they are naked. Step off stage, peel their eyes from your skin. Layer after layer of pervert, of bloodshot, wipe the trails of loathing they leave behind. Take a cotton swab to your navel to dry your mother's tears. These are nothing you haven't seen. Find glass where it is not broken, Break it. Pull on your face until you can see your cracks echoed in kaleidoscope reflections. Let your tongue swipe your teeth and slurp down the dollar bill smile. Chase it with the cat that was swimming in your eyes. Imagine what you would look like dead. Make silly faces in broken mirrors. Turn away before they fade. Shake your head in your hands until music flies from your ears. Shake harder. Spill the hypnotic equilibrium they sold you Watch the room start to sway. Sit down. Stand up. Find your legs. ***** Heave, feeling there is much more poison than will ever come out. Cough into the air, knowing your hands are sacred. Wipe your memory on someone else's sleeve. Walk to the door. Let your profession slip from your shoulders. Become human. Become blending into the crowd. Become busy with something in your hands. Open the door, then your umbrella. Do not breathe. Take five steps forward and wait to exhale until your hear the door slam behind you. It isn't healthy to mix the sight of rain with the smell of broken pianos. Walk forward. Out of your shoes. Wince as the concrete speaks to your heel. Bathe your toes in the nearest puddle. Let your umbrella slide from the warmth of your hand. Watch it fly. Notice the people. Move your sight from the ground and rest it on their chins. Realize you're wearing no clothes. Pull the confidence down and off of your walk and turn to the closest alley. Step off stage. Peel their eyes from your soul. Become an individual. Forget "the people." Notice the persons wrapped to their noses in professions and smiles, confidence and ignorance pouring from their eyes, heads tucked low beneath charcoal umbrellas. Smile. Without trying when you hear the clouds roar. Stop when you find there are more walls than bodies and the smell of ***** is stronger than your own. Forget your smell. Open your mouth. Forget your taste. Bend your knees and raise your head. Close your eyes and feel it rain. Scream. Strip the religion from your prayers. Scream the ineffable confession. Forget your body. Drink the rain. there is no music there is rain there is **** beneath your feet there is no stage you are naked.
0
Apr 24, 2012
Apr 24, 2012 at 12:02 AM UTC
Stripper
A stripper does not command the same feelings when there is no music when there is rain when there is **** beneath their feet when there is no stage when they are naked. Step off stage, peel their eyes from your skin. Layer after layer of pervert, of bloodshot, wipe the trails of loathing they leave behind. Take a cotton swab to your navel to dry your mother's tears. These are nothing you haven't seen. Find glass where it is not broken, Break it. Pull on your face until you can see your cracks echoed in kaleidoscope reflections. Let your tongue swipe your teeth and slurp down the dollar bill smile. Chase it with the cat that was swimming in your eyes. Imagine what you would look like dead. Make silly faces in broken mirrors. Turn away before they fade. Shake your head in your hands until music flies from your ears. Shake harder. Spill the hypnotic equilibrium they sold you Watch the room start to sway. Sit down. Stand up. Find your legs. ***** Heave, feeling there is much more poison than will ever come out. Cough into the air, knowing your hands are sacred. Wipe your memory on someone else's sleeve. Walk to the door. Let your profession slip from your shoulders. Become human. Become blending into the crowd. Become busy with something in your hands. Open the door, then your umbrella. Do not breathe. Take five steps forward and wait to exhale until your hear the door slam behind you. It isn't healthy to mix the sight of rain with the smell of broken pianos. Walk forward. Out of your shoes. Wince as the concrete speaks to your heel. Bathe your toes in the nearest puddle. Let your umbrella slide from the warmth of your hand. Watch it fly. Notice the people. Move your sight from the ground and rest it on their chins. Realize you're wearing no clothes. Pull the confidence down and off of your walk and turn to the closest alley. Step off stage. Peel their eyes from your soul. Become an individual. Forget "the people." Notice the persons wrapped to their noses in professions and smiles, confidence and ignorance pouring from their eyes, heads tucked low beneath charcoal umbrellas. Smile. Without trying when you hear the clouds roar. Stop when you find there are more walls than bodies and the smell of ***** is stronger than your own. Forget your smell. Open your mouth. Forget your taste. Bend your knees and raise your head. Close your eyes and feel it rain. Scream. Strip the religion from your prayers. Scream the ineffable confession. Forget your body. Drink the rain. there is no music there is rain there is **** beneath your feet there is no stage you are naked.
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94
Don’t think that I’m a pervert Just take me as I am Or let me take you. *** I really like your body Every single curve. Don’t think that I’m a pervert But I like that pretty little curve From your *** to your back. Let me kiss you like a pervert From you back to your crack Don’t think that I’m a pervert But I love the wonders of your body. That ****** little curve from your waist To your hip – drives me insane! But I’m a happy little madman. Don’t tell this to your mom But I’m a bit of a madman Who loves those pretty little curves From your waist to your chest. Those pretty little round things -drives me insane!
0
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 3:53 PM UTC
Curves
I think I might be a pervert. I mean, a mere bite of her lip, stroke of the hair or flick of her hip sends fire around my body criminalises my mind and throws me outside, to look pressed nose against the glass, breath blurring up the window, and my view of her *** Yep, I think I might be a pervert. Aren't you? I mean when it's hot, don't you get thirsty from sitting beside the fountain? Course you do, we're all perverts, even those baldy monks up on some breast-like mountain.
0
Nov 20, 2011
Nov 20, 2011 at 10:15 PM UTC
I think I might be a pervert
x rated thoughts invade my mind when i see you but instead of thinking **** me i want you to love me i want you to make love to me i want to hold you and tell you you're beautiful until you believe it i am aching to kiss the small of your back breathe words trying to express my feelings for you onto your bare skin and i want you to know that every time you touch me i'm giving you a piece of myself take care of it you're pulling me apart and i love it i guess you make me emotionally *****
0
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
call me a romantic pervert
Sloane swallows. ***** is **** I execrate extraterrestrial. We are all kaput to conk out. Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky. Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty. I verily don’t grease a ***** Oojakapivvycum. If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism. The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing ********** I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies. I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert That penetrate ***** creature. I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it. It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing. We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium. I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux **** But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android *** Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself. I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail. I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types. I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs, Ad hominen id. Ex post facto, I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself. I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ****** Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème. Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.
0
Mar 21, 2010
Mar 21, 2010 at 6:27 PM UTC
We Are All Sadomasochistically Decomposing In A Heap Of Our Own Meconium
Sloane swallows. ***** is **** I execrate extraterrestrial. We are all kaput to conk out. Pollyanna is singular hanky—panky. Little green men are unpatriotic, perverted and naughty. I verily don’t grease a ***** Oojakapivvycum. If you are amphibious that means you are an effervescent ventriloquist capable of Cannibalism, cannibalism and cannibalism. The fluid inside the android is so gothic and naff It is knock—kneed in the face of flashing ********** I do not feel that I am on the shoulders of cobber doggies. I am protoplastically lassoed abutting penetrating vampire and pervert That penetrate ***** creature. I have pricked little green men myself and taken pleasure in it. It is only with the help of bad hair days of groupies that I have not been in Sing Sing. We are all sadomasochistically decomposing in a heap of our own meconium. I bore stiff to outstrip yours truly as much as I have room to swing a cat from Ku Klux **** But I am as complicit in the android’s ****** abuse as it were android *** Little green men ***** me as I ***** myself. I ***** bug—eyed men’s ******* types as I have perpetually vomited Molotov cocktail. I smell little green men’s filth televised on their ******* types. I feel like I am inside a crust of cancers who delight in smelling others bonk upstairs, Ad hominen id. Ex post facto, I am too much of a dastard to throw cold water on myself. I coagulate gungily to my menstrual gibbering ****** Castrating anti—Semite to flash me abutting crème de la crème. Strenuously, my ***** gluts under one’s nose because that is all there is.
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29
I've taken special precaution to protect myself. Meaning, I don't give my email to people I do not know. My phone number is clutched to my chest. Even my real name is never disclosed. I live by pseudonym. Pandarra, Pandakin or simply just Panda. And' If that's not to your liking. Try; Vearena, Vearona or even Vea. I have lots of names, all of them a mouthful as they roll off your tongue. I live with precautions, to keep people at bay. Too many idiots and pervert now-a-days. But that's not the worst, heathens and **** dwell as well. People who are working the angles to make a quick buck or two off the naive and the unknowing. So learn from me well; live with precautions. Keep people at arms length, because then, and only then, can they not sink their teeth in.
0
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
Pseudonym
(Inspired by This Is the House That Jack Built) Crack House This is the house that police raided. This is the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the gang armed with scorn, That kidnapped the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the homeless man that begged at morn, That waked the gang armed with scorn, That kidnapped the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the panhandler all forlorn, That supported the homeless man that begged at morn, That waked the gang armed with scorn, That kidnapped the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the cardboard sign and clothes all torn, That belonged to the panhandler all forlorn, That supported the man that begged at morn, That waked the gang armed with scorn, That kidnapped the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided.
0
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 8:20 AM UTC
Crack House
(Inspired by This Is the House That Jack Built) Crack House This is the house that police raided. This is the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the gang armed with scorn, That kidnapped the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the homeless man that begged at morn, That waked the gang armed with scorn, That kidnapped the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the panhandler all forlorn, That supported the homeless man that begged at morn, That waked the gang armed with scorn, That kidnapped the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided. This is the cardboard sign and clothes all torn, That belonged to the panhandler all forlorn, That supported the man that begged at morn, That waked the gang armed with scorn, That kidnapped the baby recently born, That annoyed the pervert stocked with **** That bought from the dealer with the street popcorn, That distracted the cop, That alarmed the **** That bought the wimp, That injected the needle That lay in the house that police raided.
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80
Old Pantaloons, a Chiasmus by Michael R. Burch Old pantaloons are soft and white, prudent days, imprudent nights when fingers slip through drawers to feel that which they long most to steal. Old ***** loons are soft and white, prudent days, imprudent nights when fingers slip through drawers to steal that which they long most to feel. Keywords/Tags: chiasmus, pantaloons, ***** loons, ******* pun, wordplay, underwear, fetish, lingerie, pervert, perverts, **********
0
May 20, 2020
May 20, 2020 at 10:58 PM UTC
Old Pantaloons
if you care to know what life was like for a teenage girl, in Buffalo, NY i would have to tell you, that indeed, stonewash jeans were HOT and even more so, if they were rolled up, folded, and p i n n e d. it was the tail end of punks, with the rise of grunge, pearl jam s o u n d g a r d e n and REM michael jackson and p r i n c e. SNL, chicken wings, and the phantom of the opera the world was sad the middle east was sad and the president was a pervert. what more is there to say? other than the driveway and porch parties and of course, computers pagers and andy warhol. there really wan't much to it. camping, stars in the country and crisp fall air and winters that never ended. brutal sun, freezie pops and dance routines. i was a girl. what more can i say?
0
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 8:31 PM UTC
a girl, circa 1995