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"pesky" poems
You really have to watch those liberal males, they'll spend hours and hours with you having deep intellectual conversations. They'll discuss deep ideas, contemplate esoteric theory and spiritual ideas. They'll make love for hours and write deep and meaningful poetry about you. Sure, they will probably wear their hair long and most likely won't own a television. But, they'll understand art and architecture and literature. It's true that they probably won't give two shakes about who won what football game, but they'll dance with you late at night under the stars and they're always looking for new ways to please you and usually understand your deepest thoughts, often before you understand them yourself. They'll be your best friend and always treat you as an equal, in fact, it will never even enter their mind that you're not. They're almost always physically fit, too, because they're usually the outdoorsy type and love to hike. They never make fun of others, or discuss small ideas. They enjoy discussing ways to improve the world and the lives of others. Sure, they won't slap you on your *** and tell you to get in the kitchen and cook them some dinner and bring them a beer while you're at it like those macho men on the right. Instead they'll probably tell you to relax while they whip you up a gourmet meal and serve it to you on the best dishes. Yeah, you really gotta watch out for those liberal males.
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Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
Those Pesky Liberal Males
K-popper Psy Buzzing like a pesky fly To out do his "Gangnam Style" hit But you can't polish cat **** *Clerihew A Clerihew is a comic verse consisting of two couplets and a specific rhyming scheme, aabb invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley (1875-1956) at the age of 16. The poem is about/deals with a person/character within the first rhyme. In most cases, the first line names a person, and the second line ends with something that rhymes with the name of the person.*
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Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
a Clerihew
Compound eyes Astonishing spectacles Clairvoyant views from above Wings glistening in the light of the sun Buzzing long bodied mystical stories Dragon's breath of spiritual eloquence Releasing the bugs eating away at conscience Skeletal spine of an egoless monk whispering harmoniously the simple remedies of cleansing thought My snake doctor Quick witted unmasker your view 360 degrees Focusing on the movement and pesky mosquitos that feast That leave us scratching our heads I look on so enviously at Lady Dragonfly as she hovers angelically In an eternal sky It saddens me that the great one's lives are always cut too short but her legend lives on timelessly Dating way back to Permian    period
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Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 1:34 AM UTC
Lady Dragonfly
Quack! Quack! Quack! Ok, where’s everybody? I’ve been gliding round in this pond the last half hour singing my Duck-thoven tunes: Quack! Quack! Quack Quack!Quack! Quack! And so why’s everyone avoiding me like I don’t know how to make conversation? Quack? Quack? The other day the duckling glided near and asked if I’d share bits of the bread thrown to me by these pesky humans who can’t read the Don’t-feed-the-ducks signs and I swallowed the bread bits whole and said: Quack! Quack! Quack! And the silly duckling ran away crying! – Hey how can I answer with food in my mouth? Quack! Quack! Quack! Your mum taught you to speak with food in your mouth? Quack! Quack! Quack! Have you got any brains in that quacking head of yours, duckling? Really, no reason to avoid me… I mean the other day they asked me what I think about the environment and I said: Quack! Quack! Quack! and they all looked astonished at the wisdom of my words. So why avoid me now? This cute **** duck glided quite close to me and asked me what I thought about pre-marital *** and I said: Quack! Quack! Quack! and I flapped my wings and walked on water and held my head high with the sweetest: Quack! Quack! Quack! and that silly female duck jumped to the overhanging branches and refused to come down for all my quacking: Quack! Quack! Quack! Seriously, what’s this all about? – You excite a ****** duck and then hide in the branches? What’s this pond coming to! The other day a silly fish swam close to me and asked for directions round the pond and I said: Quack! Quack! Quack! And the fish said: Hey! I don’t understand Duck language. Don’t you speak Finglish? What the Duck! I said. Why don’t you learn Quacklish! Quack!Quack!Quack! So where’s everybody? And really I don’t understand why everyone’s avoiding me. I mean really I can qua-ttle off the Entire History of the Pond and the Holy Texts Revealed by Duck God to the Duck Prophets and I can quack about anything and I can quack about all the wines and grog and I can teach the creatures how to change pond water into wine; and I can quack about all the delicacies in the pond and I can sing too, listen: Quack! Quack! Quack! And such a delightful voice and such original tunes too! A graduate of Duck-kovsky Underwater Academy. And so – hey! – where’s everybody? Why do they avoid me like I’ve got the Swine Flu or something? Hey, I’m just a pond duck who likes to Quack! Quack! Quack! You got a problem with that, you quacks!
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Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 10:40 AM UTC
lonely duck in the pond quacks to itself...
Quack! Quack! Quack! Ok, where’s everybody? I’ve been gliding round in this pond the last half hour singing my Duck-thoven tunes: Quack! Quack! Quack Quack!Quack! Quack! And so why’s everyone avoiding me like I don’t know how to make conversation? Quack? Quack? The other day the duckling glided near and asked if I’d share bits of the bread thrown to me by these pesky humans who can’t read the Don’t-feed-the-ducks signs and I swallowed the bread bits whole and said: Quack! Quack! Quack! And the silly duckling ran away crying! – Hey how can I answer with food in my mouth? Quack! Quack! Quack! Your mum taught you to speak with food in your mouth? Quack! Quack! Quack! Have you got any brains in that quacking head of yours, duckling? Really, no reason to avoid me… I mean the other day they asked me what I think about the environment and I said: Quack! Quack! Quack! and they all looked astonished at the wisdom of my words. So why avoid me now? This cute **** duck glided quite close to me and asked me what I thought about pre-marital *** and I said: Quack! Quack! Quack! and I flapped my wings and walked on water and held my head high with the sweetest: Quack! Quack! Quack! and that silly female duck jumped to the overhanging branches and refused to come down for all my quacking: Quack! Quack! Quack! Seriously, what’s this all about? – You excite a ****** duck and then hide in the branches? What’s this pond coming to! The other day a silly fish swam close to me and asked for directions round the pond and I said: Quack! Quack! Quack! And the fish said: Hey! I don’t understand Duck language. Don’t you speak Finglish? What the Duck! I said. Why don’t you learn Quacklish! Quack!Quack!Quack! So where’s everybody? And really I don’t understand why everyone’s avoiding me. I mean really I can qua-ttle off the Entire History of the Pond and the Holy Texts Revealed by Duck God to the Duck Prophets and I can quack about anything and I can quack about all the wines and grog and I can teach the creatures how to change pond water into wine; and I can quack about all the delicacies in the pond and I can sing too, listen: Quack! Quack! Quack! And such a delightful voice and such original tunes too! A graduate of Duck-kovsky Underwater Academy. And so – hey! – where’s everybody? Why do they avoid me like I’ve got the Swine Flu or something? Hey, I’m just a pond duck who likes to Quack! Quack! Quack! You got a problem with that, you quacks!
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65
Upon a morning dreary I took a **** which left my ******* weary I wiped I flushed I exited the bathroom blushed Twelve hours passed Since that horrid **** left my *** And low and behold A smell flowed to my nose Just as a burning arose Underneath my ******* I knew too late the **** had stained The flesh, my taint tucked under my ******** train ONE WIPE WAS NOT ENOUGH... Pretty soon around six o'clock There came upon my door a knock knock knock And who was there? Who did I hear calling to my ears? It was the *** positive, gonarreah infested, scabies encrusted, syphilis ridden, transexual sex-kitten I had started a relationship with over Craig's List Now, listen children carefully to this... ***** tucked hisher's lips around hisher's teeth And began a ******* that could make the Hulk weak But it was over in a jif When ***** caught a wiff And that little sneak Took a pervy peak At the feces widely spread underneath ***** RAN AWAY CRYING I was laughing so hard I thought I was dying That pesky little poo Left on hisher bottom lip Made that entire bathroom trip FULLFILLING
0
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 9:14 PM UTC
The **** Stuck Under My Sack
We use video games To make video gains Until the screen goes black And reality attacks We lose all our progress In the deletion process As we level up we devolve Around the TV we revolve The more experience we gain The more moments we lose Our memories forever stained When this is what we choose Our life inside a hard drive Our life becomes a hard lie We revel in being unwise Rage quitting life We enjoy strife And avoid pesky light When we live in the dark With consumerist plights We are all marks Video games balance in a zone Between game and art The frustration starts When art is confused for games And games mistook for art People take things to heart And spitefully spew viper venom If this is where games send them Then why do we play? We have no other way To feel accomplishment In a society that worships competition Video games become the second edition Of a life filled with loss On our pixelated cross We are murdered millions of times Reminiscent of the millions of lies That make us losers in the real world Video games become our shiny pearl The computer displays defeat When our lives aren't complete Because we need someone to beat Not realizing our lives are conquered By frivolous topics we've pondered Our meaningless life squandered And hope comes in the form of new releases While inside our faulty headset is in pieces
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Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
Video Games
Everyone is full of immense beauty It takes someone special to see it Only that special someone can see True beauty hidden from the world You may not seem beautiful to all You may be pale, skinny and short Or even a pearly tan skin and tall Beauty is seen by someone special You may think you see the beauty But our eyes can deceive the mind It's just the outer shell that you see Inside could be a whole other creature You must be patient for them to appear Your eyes must be one with your mind Maybe even face a newer pesky fear If your heart and soul agree, go for it Opportunities flash in the blink of an eye Beauty is something not seen by us all You may live life alone until you will die But you know you didn't have fake love
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC
Inner Beauty
yesterday the telephone rang non stop and the dashed thing had me on the hop all my time was spent saying hello and goodbye I had to tell the person on the other end I must fly those telephone marketers are an insistent lot they are more pesky than a horse fly bot not for one minute did they leave me alone ring ring ring went the overbearing telephone to get some peace from the telephone's hassling I unplugged the ruddy rampant thing one is fearful of reconnecting it to the socket as it may well send one right off one's rocket
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
Ring Ring Ring
Welcome Back To This, Your Isle The rabbits beneath the deck, Even the pesky deer who eat the shrubbery, Sea creatures, living and spirits of the dead, Lying on the paths and in the creeks of Silver Beach, All inquire: Was it better wherever you went? Were the: Bears, hiding in the forests outside Berlin, Eagles, double headed, of Russia Herring, fried, creamed, wined, From the vendors on the docks of Helsinki, Riga, Visby and Tallinn, Salmon, smoked and cured in Stockholm, More impressive, Tastier than our striped bass, Island cohorts of yours, who waited patiently For their chronicler to return? Did the Little Mermaid and her Dolphin Guardians of the Port of Copenhagen Welcome you more warmly than your friends, The ospreys, lizards, turtles and owls Who overwatch your steps and safety When hiking in Mashomack Preserve? Are the interlacing tidal creeks, Woodlands, fields, salt marshes and the ragged, Irregular but charmed coastline of this cherished island Any lesser than those of Scandinavia? Are the sea-going ferries that transverse the Baltic Sea and the Gulf of Finland, More poetic than the Menantic or the Lt. Joe, Who carry you swiftly home to us? The National Geographic people say that in Tivoli Gardens, The Amerikaner (ha!) waffle ice cream cone Is one of the ten best in the world. Guessing they have not made it yet to the Tuck Shop for some Moose Tracks! Were you unaware that our isle settled before Peter the Great ever envisioned creating the grand Boulevards of his capitol, St. Petersburg, Route 114 was a traveled forest path, By settlers and Indians, not serfs. Of the Treasures, the Gold Room of the Hermitage, The Amber Room of Catherine's Palace, Wrote not a single word, we observe. Your attentions, they did not deserve? The answers all, self evident. Here, surrounded by the gentle breezes of Long Island Sound and Gardiners Bay, Sweet and salty flavors of the Peconic atmosphere, Words unlocked, from your eyes to the page fall, Smudged by joyous tears, for the muses of the island Have embraced you yet again and rebirthed Inspiration, within their comforting, sheltering grasp. Silver Beach July 22, 2012
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Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 4:50 PM UTC
Welcome Back To This, Your Isle
Welcome Back To This, Your Isle The rabbits beneath the deck, Even the pesky deer who eat the shrubbery, Sea creatures, living and spirits of the dead, Lying on the paths and in the creeks of Silver Beach, All inquire: Was it better wherever you went? Were the: Bears, hiding in the forests outside Berlin, Eagles, double headed, of Russia Herring, fried, creamed, wined, From the vendors on the docks of Helsinki, Riga, Visby and Tallinn, Salmon, smoked and cured in Stockholm, More impressive, Tastier than our striped bass, Island cohorts of yours, who waited patiently For their chronicler to return? Did the Little Mermaid and her Dolphin Guardians of the Port of Copenhagen Welcome you more warmly than your friends, The ospreys, lizards, turtles and owls Who overwatch your steps and safety When hiking in Mashomack Preserve? Are the interlacing tidal creeks, Woodlands, fields, salt marshes and the ragged, Irregular but charmed coastline of this cherished island Any lesser than those of Scandinavia? Are the sea-going ferries that transverse the Baltic Sea and the Gulf of Finland, More poetic than the Menantic or the Lt. Joe, Who carry you swiftly home to us? The National Geographic people say that in Tivoli Gardens, The Amerikaner (ha!) waffle ice cream cone Is one of the ten best in the world. Guessing they have not made it yet to the Tuck Shop for some Moose Tracks! Were you unaware that our isle settled before Peter the Great ever envisioned creating the grand Boulevards of his capitol, St. Petersburg, Route 114 was a traveled forest path, By settlers and Indians, not serfs. Of the Treasures, the Gold Room of the Hermitage, The Amber Room of Catherine's Palace, Wrote not a single word, we observe. Your attentions, they did not deserve? The answers all, self evident. Here, surrounded by the gentle breezes of Long Island Sound and Gardiners Bay, Sweet and salty flavors of the Peconic atmosphere, Words unlocked, from your eyes to the page fall, Smudged by joyous tears, for the muses of the island Have embraced you yet again and rebirthed Inspiration, within their comforting, sheltering grasp. Silver Beach July 22, 2012
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56
Writer's blocks build walls of divide. On the one side jump experience and feeling and emotion and thought, but on the other sit the words that rest in my mind and refuse to wake up from their pesky slumbers of stubborn laziness. All it takes is one word to smuggle itself passed a crack in the wall and there's a melody of language. The ideas can shoot itself only so high without its counterpart on the other side helping it reach the top. Oh writer's blocks, please stop mounting yourselves on top of one and other. With every solidifying brick, another word slips away and slowly writes itself into a permanent shut-eye. I know you mean no harm and simply want to exist in the struggle for perfected poetry, but my life currently lacks its therapy. I appreciate your necessary hindrances, but if you could help me harmonize my mind and soul, I'd value your necessity much more.
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Jun 23, 2014
Jun 23, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Apartheid of Expression
When you’ve had enough Of maniacs and hustlers, Of fakes and phonies And smooth talking hucksters It’s time to pull back And sort through the weeds To find the flowers And see what you need. Not what you want, That’s something different. If your needs aren’t met Life can get belligerent. You need breath and water And some other great stuff Or you stop living a lot And that is rather rough. Once we move from needs The rest are all your wants And you can live without them Despite all your rowdy taunts. How many times have you heard I need coffee when I wake up? That is a case of your want That comes in a handy cup. Or, I need to buy cigarettes But that isn’t really true. You don’t think you’ll die without I mean, not really, do you? Or, I need some ice cream now Or a cruller or two or three. That doesn’t sound fatal Unless you do that daily. So, the best thing you can do For your one and only body Is to try your best to keep The thing from getting shoddy By separating the things That your body best deserves And realize that ignoring wants Does nothing but get on nerves. With that clearing of your head And setting of new priorities The Big Things of the day Turn into pesky minorities. Suddenly you see that you Can choose who to ignore And then see what you need And need for nothing more.
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
WANTS AND NEEDS
The internet and the electronic gadgets are now creating the new wave of infidelity, did you notice the anomalies in the way things are turning out. Hookups made easy, knowing me knowing you friendships, easy dating and cheating.com, wives and husband cheating on themselves, Social media is the only best place to live your fake dream full of lies like the deepfakes movies. No more true friendship, nothing real but a pretense paradise. Always uncomfortable but rather deal with another from a distance. You don't exist even when together in same room. Always closer to the stars than to you. You are ignored but chat with someone so far away. You seem to be happier talking to someone you never met and hardly know, telling all your private secrets to an unknown person claiming to be a true close friend while the one you grew up with now becomes a friendenemy, never to be trusted. Electronic friendship has killed our generation, destroyed the foundation of true relationship. Fake lifestyle, flaunting fake wealth, gossiping about fake not-so-sure news. Infidelity has become the new social norm accessible and accepted around the world. No true commitment, so much fraud and drama displayed. The young men and women are going berserk, their uncontrollable pesky ways leading them in all manner of immorality and all kinds of trouble. But there's still some sort of good in it. Is this a part of a new world order? Maybe, I don't know.   ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
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Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 2:31 PM UTC
NEW WAYS
The internet and the electronic gadgets are now creating the new wave of infidelity, did you notice the anomalies in the way things are turning out. Hookups made easy, knowing me knowing you friendships, easy dating and cheating.com, wives and husband cheating on themselves, Social media is the only best place to live your fake dream full of lies like the deepfakes movies. No more true friendship, nothing real but a pretense paradise. Always uncomfortable but rather deal with another from a distance. You don't exist even when together in same room. Always closer to the stars than to you. You are ignored but chat with someone so far away. You seem to be happier talking to someone you never met and hardly know, telling all your private secrets to an unknown person claiming to be a true close friend while the one you grew up with now becomes a friendenemy, never to be trusted. Electronic friendship has killed our generation, destroyed the foundation of true relationship. Fake lifestyle, flaunting fake wealth, gossiping about fake not-so-sure news. Infidelity has become the new social norm accessible and accepted around the world. No true commitment, so much fraud and drama displayed. The young men and women are going berserk, their uncontrollable pesky ways leading them in all manner of immorality and all kinds of trouble. But there's still some sort of good in it. Is this a part of a new world order? Maybe, I don't know.   ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
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59
The sun looks and feels as though it seeks revenge The sweltering heat exarcabating the chronic fatigue that plagues this youthful body All of the grumbling and screaming turning  into a silent whisper And subsequently, a yawn I feel oppressed by mother nature The wind is blowing in fiery-like gusts  When it touches my face I can feel all the energy oozing out of me Justifying this idleness The air smells of wilted Jacaranda tree blossomings, strewn across the lawn Which would be blissful if inhalation of these smells didn't spur on pesky allergies It feels like the end of days I yearn for the feeling of relief in the air and within myself when the infinite skies flare up and release the rains And the pleasure of hearing the water murmur when it flows over the stone work in the front yard Endurance Endurance.
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 9:51 AM UTC
33 degrees celsius
Forsythias flower now, A shock of yellow petals Matching my Daffodils. Pure yellow, Brighter than the sun. Galaxies of petal-stars Hanging from spiral arms. As numerous as a shoal of fish, Or flock of birds. Nature stuns us with its numbers. Winter hangs on With chilling grip. But blossoms like these hold promise Of warmer days. My crocuses were first: Defiant spears thrusting into the frosty air. And now the second wave is here: Flower after flower, Bird after bird: Robins and Blue **** Blackbirds and Sparrows. Pesky gnats are out As everything awakes From hibernation. Yes Spring is here, Showing us once more The sheer resilience of Life. Paul Butters
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 3:11 PM UTC
Forsythias
The days seem too short The nights much too long All those nights I cried, only just to rest my eyes Oh don’t you weep For now my soul can truly sleep Remember me, just remember me Basking in the summer rays Wasting away those lustful days Remember our songs Those lovely songs We’d sing together all night long Remember me, remember our bond It's been quite some time now Since I've seen that smile Brighten up those eyes 'Cause I'm always here but never there Just a whisper and I'll appear Remember me Just simply me All those yesterdays and Tomorrows never to be Yes, that clock That clock continues to ring and a dream never dream t is a dream best kept, hidden deep inside Time oh pesky time Don't you always seem to slip by Remember me, remember my life Gaze away Oh beautiful star How I wish you weren't so far You must not seek what it is that's blinding thee That trickle of light You see It's slightly out of reach Won't you just remember me? © 2012 Christina Jackson
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Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 4:46 PM UTC
Remember me
A con man rolled into town, With a funny looking wig. Made a lot of promises, Everything will be really big. He claims he doesn’t like immigrants, Says they cause a lot of strife, But you certainly would never know, By looking at his imported wife. And he doesn’t like Muslims, And forget it if you’re black. And as for those pesky Mexicans, He’s sending them all back. He says he has a really big plan, To cure America’s ills, But you got to wonder about a guy, Who can’t even pay his own bills. He has experience in business, His bankruptcies total four, And with a temperament like his, We’ll soon be in another war. Spews a whole lot of hot air, That he can improve the current state, Never says anything definite, But don’t worry it’ll all be great. He wants to close the internet, And the border to the South, But if he’s going to close anything, Please let it be his mouth. Oh he makes a lot of promises, And they’re all as fake as his hair, And the saddest part about it, Is his followers just don’t care. 07-31-16.
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Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 12:08 AM UTC
The Conning Of America
it is done differently - more is not necessary - more of this - is too much; the kissing is an exploration - to a polar destination of virtual whiteness - to discover more than this.  the kissing is not an end in and of itself - but a fjord unexplored leading to what? yes there are many different kinds of kisses - adaptations to a changing terrain - but the face, the face, the face (not just the lips), the head entire - is the first battle in a world war where the opponents strengths and weakness are literally uncovered and shape the nature of the war of the worlds yet to come. more than kissing, it is a speech and an interrogation; an ********** revelation of fine lines and small scars, a writing of a history, a history that existed  unbeknownst to the explorer and thus interesting and dangerous - a history composed in a different time and place and almost in a vacuum - for kissing is impactful - outlines of footsteps on never before trodden lanes - but who prepared these paths in advance of my arrival, and was my arrival forecast or just imagined? first time kissing oft portrayed as excited glee - but this is a grievous error - a wild display of wasted resources - it is not to meant to be pesky single shots of damp I was here where next? it is a drawing, nay, a sculpting of map to be reproduced in limited quantity for only the map rooms of the greatest museums. each individual kiss is more than an act, but a marker connecting the previous to the future next - exactly a map drawn by an explorer - meant to be shared with others who love history, discovery and women creatures. be wary of unmarked crevasses and pools where no one has measured the depth - novice sailors without proper charts upon unfamiliar faces - too oft drown or are somehow sail as lost forever. but the notion of being the first, even if you are not the first, is so intoxicating for the brainstorming it provokes - the envisioning of more than kissing but of unlocking a new nature, creating a creation born in the intersection of two waters - where fresh waters joint the brine of the ocean - and there are untold different kinds of waters and no two terrains though similar - are ever exactly the same. here does my entry in my log - my journal - end - though the notation of than is comparative and therefore unending.
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Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 9:46 AM UTC
when kissing a woman for the first time; than
it is done differently - more is not necessary - more of this - is too much; the kissing is an exploration - to a polar destination of virtual whiteness - to discover more than this.  the kissing is not an end in and of itself - but a fjord unexplored leading to what? yes there are many different kinds of kisses - adaptations to a changing terrain - but the face, the face, the face (not just the lips), the head entire - is the first battle in a world war where the opponents strengths and weakness are literally uncovered and shape the nature of the war of the worlds yet to come. more than kissing, it is a speech and an interrogation; an ********** revelation of fine lines and small scars, a writing of a history, a history that existed  unbeknownst to the explorer and thus interesting and dangerous - a history composed in a different time and place and almost in a vacuum - for kissing is impactful - outlines of footsteps on never before trodden lanes - but who prepared these paths in advance of my arrival, and was my arrival forecast or just imagined? first time kissing oft portrayed as excited glee - but this is a grievous error - a wild display of wasted resources - it is not to meant to be pesky single shots of damp I was here where next? it is a drawing, nay, a sculpting of map to be reproduced in limited quantity for only the map rooms of the greatest museums. each individual kiss is more than an act, but a marker connecting the previous to the future next - exactly a map drawn by an explorer - meant to be shared with others who love history, discovery and women creatures. be wary of unmarked crevasses and pools where no one has measured the depth - novice sailors without proper charts upon unfamiliar faces - too oft drown or are somehow sail as lost forever. but the notion of being the first, even if you are not the first, is so intoxicating for the brainstorming it provokes - the envisioning of more than kissing but of unlocking a new nature, creating a creation born in the intersection of two waters - where fresh waters joint the brine of the ocean - and there are untold different kinds of waters and no two terrains though similar - are ever exactly the same. here does my entry in my log - my journal - end - though the notation of than is comparative and therefore unending.
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30
Let me inspire you to go higher: Lost among the stars. Our universe glitters, spread across the sky. The world keeps turning, Resplendent with hills and mountains, Dales and plains. Continents surrounded with seas and oceans And clothed by grass and trees. Mother Earth is blessed with flora and fauna: Sentient beings of every shape and size, From mighty whales and elephants, Through furry friends like dogs and cats, Tall giraffes, slithery snails, right down To scattering ants and pesky flies. Smell that fresh sea breeze, Hear those rolling waves, Screams of gulls And twittering sparrows. Feel the warm moist air Of an Indian Summer. Be mindful of all that is around, Yet let imagination wonder, For out there There is more So much more. Dark Monsters of The Id Are out there too, We all know that. But Life in all its splendour And determination Is there for all to see. Oh to live forever with such things. Paul Butters © PB 16\10\2018.
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Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 11:52 AM UTC
Inspired
Maybe the end of the universe does not lie in an explosion or a hole that breathes black, maybe it is right here where stone benches reside and the raindrops taunt like pesky little children waiting for you to see them, loud enough to mimic the silence loud enough to sound like sorrow. Maybe this is the end of the universe— cosmic loneliness. The stars are in a bitter drink and the sun lies anywhere but within you and your moon—why do they say that? To the moon and back?—your moon is a rock in your stomach and only the fingers of the almost rain weighs you down on dear, old Earth, washing you off your tears.
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Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
The End of the Universe
If you don't afford me the same respect That I afford you How dare you expect me to hold my tongue Keep my silence Look down, look away, so as not to offend your darling pride How dare you pretend that you're all Supreme Though you are almost hypocritical You might delude Yourself into believing yourself fair But you're anything But fair in your dealings, anything but respectful How dare you tell us that we have to keep Shut and follow When you barely set the brightest example No one expects You to be a perfect idol, but you're just vile In your treatment We might be below you for now, but one Day we'll go on To become the future generation, the leaders, The pioneers So lady, please talk nicely because even though I avert my eyes Try and keep my tone flat, even I have a threshold When I break And look at you finally, with the eyes that scream 'Anger! Hate!' Be careful. I might not make the best grades, and I Certainly don't Believe I do. It isn't even my first priority but I am Still your student Still obliged to you but even I won't back off if you Start talking down Like I am a pesky bug that needs wiping away I am not Going to simply avert my eyes then and look away I will stand Scream out the truth I believe, I see, the truth of you Being totally unfit For such a holy profession as teaching
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Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 5:02 AM UTC
Outrage Over A Crumbling Institution
I don't mind working on my own It gives me time to ponder While my body works away My mind begins to wander Dusty serenades the treetops Pesky teasing squirrels I sit on a tree stump Pleasing little scribbles Cut down, saw up Cart, split stack With a certain satisfaction It seems to me There's an ounce of poetry in that
0
Mar 16, 2012
Mar 16, 2012 at 5:52 AM UTC
Woodsman
I know the feeling experienced, when everything crumbles before you without warning because you were not paying attention or prepared for the pressures of the pesky people who contends with you to mess up what took you a lifetime to build. Everything crashes and tumbles before you just like that. Starting all over again is like being born again in a world of uncertainty full of intriguingly mesmerizing awe and revulsion. Where do you begin from here, how can this happen to you, you wonder how much time you have left to get things done all over again. Don't worry about it, just begin from the beginning. Pick up the crumbs, the left over and the pieces of the bricks and pebbles thrown at you to forge again the blue print with resilient attitude to create the masterpiece that will guarantee you a unique spot in the world that stands you out powerfully into the spotlight. Unbeatable and a valued and treasured friend in the world. ©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
BE UNBEATABLE AND TREASURED
Telephone scams are driving me crazy-- Both on my landline and on my cell! I'm on the verge of telling every Pesky caller to go to hell! The IRS is after me. Oh, the message sounds so dire. The person says I'd better respond Or I will be in big trouble. Liar! Or a recording tells me that my Router has been hacked, and so If I don't call them right away, They'll shut my router down. Oh, no! A caller claims he's from HP And says that they know for sure That my computer has a virus. I want to say he's full of manure. Another swears he's calling from The FBI, demanding money Because I'm being investigated. I must pay, or else! Funny! Because you've managed to make our lives So miserable, scammers, I swear: There has to be a special place In hell for you. You'd better beware! -by Bob B (8-23-18)
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Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 3:15 PM UTC
Scammers, Beware!
Eyes watered up as my voice cracked Seeing you here, hearing your voice, and our supposed to be ‘happy date’ turned into closing curtains For you stabbed me with three words that completely broke me apart; You started this relationship in three words, yet you also ended it in three; How funny, how did “Be my girlfriend” get turned into “Let's break up” that easily? I shook my head and begged you to stay; I persisted and kept asking you for a reason; For how will I be able to move on if I get left behind without something as little as that? A few minutes of silence enveloped us before you opened your mouth to speak; My fingers curled up and formed a fist after hearing your explanation; Just because of the rumors and judgments people say, you'll split up with me? Why? Do you see our relationship as an acne? That makes you look bad in society? I stepped towards you and held your shoulder, “Their opinions don't matter!” I yelled as tears continue to fall; It's true, isn't it? Like how a little pesky pimple doesn't make people ugly, our relationship's flaw doesn't matter too; So why can't you understand? “No, Beatrice, we need to stop this. I'm sorry. Good bye.” I felt my whole world crashing down as you slowly stepped back, and permanently left my life; You really are my greatest downfall, my love; Goodbye.
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 11:19 AM UTC
Rainbow filled relationship
the garden holds an aromarous display of flowers sprouts of tulips with their caressed petals bringing life to the dirt they were grown from all planted with a purpose someone wanted to see them bloom wanted to see all but the dandelion the pesky **** I am the dandelion plucked by the child's hands given a purpose for I sprouted without one here, mama look, I brought you a flower I thought it was just as pretty as you! smacked to the ground "youre saying I'm as ugly as that hideous **** the one that never goes away the one that shows up when you want it the least stealing your sunshine stealing nutrients from the tulips and roses in the garbage with an old banana peel and empty containers of yourt I hear the child cry I am sorry to only be a burden I am sorry I could not impress your mother I am sure I will be one of many unsatisfactory gifts I did not ask to be here a mistake a pest never appreciated only causing trouble I am the dandelion the child is me won't you let me grow freely
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Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
AND THE DANDELION WEEPS