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In as much as I tamed the Infidel
Baptism pokes her Holistic White Tongue
Such that if you try to flip the Role-Model
For which Hypocrisy had said and done
You do not know me. If Duty must care
And stand accused tackling my Man to like
Your Mass does not shrink me; And if you dare
Take a Pied Contest and taste the First Strike
Yet in fairness your Swan-Form does exist
As billed by Tom's Twin circled in craft
Now may I come in? Or should I resist
And Boot my *** on the Beach by the Draft?
Those Stripes were hostile from a Few Years Past
Enjoy Iberia Minor; Healing can last.
#ChrisMears93
Anecandu Sep 2014
Saturday I was the happiest knight in your kingdom
Sunday I extinguished loves burning embers with mere chewing gum
Monday I answered your call..... to muster arms, your period enemy.
Tuesday I saw my purple sky fall around me like attacking dragons.
Wednesday  I cried bitterly making my own wailing wall.
Thursday I built a trebuchet, to catapult me back into your life.
Friday I lost my sanity when I heard only the Pied Pipers fife

I wish there was another day, I need another chance.
Vicki Kralapp Oct 2018
The bush, Down Under, beckons me, and calls me from across the sea,
its sirens sing their distant songs, with winged flutes and sorrowed calls.
I walk the haunting memories, while warm winds whistle through the trees,
and watch the ghosts of gumtrees play, while passing wattles on the way.
This foreign land bewitches me, and to my heart it holds the key;
a land where once my spirit played, from where I have too long delayed.

From secret depths you sang to me, to where I’d always longed to be.
You called me forth, your land ignites, the strength within me to unite,
the unbound lass I’d sought to be, with new-found strength to set me free.
I found, much to my heart’s delight, when first I landed at this site,
the beauty of its majesty, I made its land a part of me.
This mystic place on earth excites, has caught my heart and held it tight.    

At once I knew that foreign shore, as if I been there long before;
with memories reminding me, of golden grasses by the sea,
a voice inside of me implored and told me you’ve been here before!”,
This view within my mind foreseen?  Just déjà vu? I can’t concede.
The scene’ry in my mind before, has opened a mysterious door,
into a land over the sea and made this curious memory.

When darkness flees, the day’s still new, when laughter bids the night adieu,
then bellbirds ring the morning in, their chimes float on the early wind.
The loris and the gold finch too, are both arrayed in rainbow hues.
With gum nuts, leaves, and bark akin, all carpeting the floor therein,
along with ****** bushland too, when all of nature sang anew,
the master painter, here has been, as seen in beauty from within.

As sunbeams from the sky break through, all glistens in the morning dew,
and add their magic touch to all; to paperbarks and banksias,
the bottle brush and wattles too, all readied for the day’s review.
Loud kookaburras’ raucous calls, with cockatoos and pink galahs,
pied currawong and magpie flutes, enchanting all who hear their tunes.
All joined in bushland’s magic call, and with this tune, I was enthralled.

I’ve been across this curious land, and seen more than I may have planned,
from Alice Springs and Uluru, and Darwin north of Kakadu,
the Barrier Reef, just off of Cairns, and Sydney with its city grand.
But the place I keep in view, with cockatoos and kangaroos,
in this immense, and distant land; the bush with all its beauty grand.
‘Tis in my mem’ry, pure and true, and with each breath calls back to you.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Truly yours today
Were open
Hearts divide
Each-Door Hide/Decide
Pray you don't slip on
The marble floor
Tomorrow_ the greeting
Heart to heart_ rain  pour

Lady Madonna there's
the door

Let's pray to the
sparrow
Her pencil skirt
London Bridges tomorrow
Her note Goddess yellow
The narrow streets
The good fellows

"He Kisses" the ground you
pray on to pay the pied piper
Etsy Ms. Betsy wiggly feet

"Forget Me Not"

Today future Estate plot
It pays to have a good
heart to nurture
  Her hourglass
Figure to capture
He's the one shot glass
He prays and passes

Faces so still-life she plays
Blinks those eyelashes
Man and Wife deeds
Those worried beads
Beef Jerky London
pubs perky
those, cute labs,
Rub a dub dub

Money and man in the
Cafe-Hub_?

We thought love stays
forever what a
comical gig never
Pay for a hug
To love her today
every day truer
Today the past
tomorrow the sky bluer

What will I borrow?

Today we pray at
the Temple
Big one
of_ a_ kind
people
Two kinds like twins
From yesterday sins
Just pray look at the
stray just another prey

Payday today is gone
Deal is done
On her I phone
he's gone
The wed day today
How time passed
Its own entire way

Let me know
This is Quite comical hilarious pay today just see everyone give a prayer or two life is so unexpected to be sour ball light up like the Christmas ball from light to  the Grand ball than darkness let your words light up in your coffee cup
Rayven Rae Aug 2018
i put on my
****-me eyes to play
the game again

i knew what i was doing

it shouldn’t be this easy still
15 years past the time
i could move men with my eyes

just call me the pied piper

so easy to slip inside
this mask still fits like a second skin
molten flames lick through my veins

i have some **** bad intentions

my advantage is
i’m going into the first hand
without holding my heart

you might as well just fold right away

beautiful boys have always been
a weakness - i still have the upper hand
though your pooled eyes try to tell me otherwise

you were mine before you even knew i was there

you lean close - whisper in my ear
i let you feel my heat
i don’t have time for conversation

i’m looking for my **** of the night

pull away to pull you in
i lean close - whisper in your ear
“is there an alley out back?”


“because i’m going to ******* against that brick wall”
'And when was this? I dunno, I dunno:
like everything else, twenty years ago.' - August Kleinzahler

I
Whosis slunk next to the rastamagnet
dj booth, in a limabeanhued suit
jacket, limabean sleeves rolledup to
deploy albino ancons for jostling.
II
My ****** lungs ached; gluttonous Venomised
pelicanbills. Cig o' no mercy, cig of life.
Serpivolent smoke is nicocreaming
ceiling of this dive Dasein dosses in.
III
Unrequiting snoutcloud of her chuffing
form siffles thru her mousy enamel.
'Light reflecting booster technology',
advertising Boswellox, scents her hair.
IV
Male Black Widow Complex boings in my brain,
as the vogueress exits conceivable zone
of address. Yet she cigawrenches
my stalking thoughts across the pumptup ballroom.
V
O those farouche salad nights following
swotting up in the humid Octagon!
Male Black Widow Complex, th'always boinging,
lidded by lemony orange lager.
VI
I crashed Crasherkid frabble, rocked to
DJ Shoppinghour feat. MC Niche Jah.
My Sax Pustules & Dead Kinnocks LPs
accusingly mouldered in my heart.
VII
Crasherkids twatted then, dated now, now
grooveriders haggard. But time was the thud
of arterial Cherry7up
was the dub of their youthful BPM.
VIII
Triptown beefnecks w/ classic legoman's
Acid House ecaf (before e-cafes
had come & gone), mandy stag party.
I still slow my pace at their fearless napes.
IX
The rock club had delusions of grunger,
crush at the bar was lumberjack cubism.
Era of Jingajing-chicka-jing-jing Kurt,
anno domudhoney, left a zeitgash.
X
& in the goth club, cadavolescent,
guylinered Xennials listened to
Placebo, but poo-pooed manginas.
Identi90s: genres, not genders.
XI
Blotto elbows on sudsy bar, I cross
lanky barkeep's gulchy palm w/ nugget
for latest in a lost count of snakebites.
Streak of **** is a broom in a skinnytie.
XII
'I'm hyperboring as much as you!' quip I
to a cheetahthinking softdrinker.
There'd be no ruction if pickled franion
spilt his Tab Clear Kaliber, H2ooze.
XIII
Yestreen teen mums of teen mums, renubile
on the glash. Simuladies who soft soap
saps to buy them...a drink, QVCexy.
If shopgilfs surrender the goods, QVChy.
XIV
Whosis, tattie-bogie of the floor,
turned Turok w/ liebestorschlusspanik.
But his limabean lines are jejune, even to
zirconia Zsa Zsas on the zhelf.
XV
Whosis, lima green last chancer, I'm a
aphroluddite like you. Both crud dancers
too, corybantersauruses. It's all
smoke 'n' mingers & we've got lunge cancer.
XVI
'There's a party on the hillside, would you like
to come? Bring your own cup & saucer
& your own cream bun!' Friends joyride
home dead, so ride dead joy home alone.
XVII
Simian, simulacrum, something for
the weekend, sir? Or are weekends just for
something before ip dip dogshit
******* ******* silly *** meet the kids then what?
XVIII
Stereotripe, not Stereospeare, yet unknown
plexors would kick in. Or was it the joypop?
Popliteal self on higher neon knees,
Mother Brown's got nothing on me!
XIX
Anansesum of my fancy footwork,
Bez in blossom under tiger strobe.
Chemical cochise, call me 'Tarantulip':
totem, tarantism, bruxism, bloom.
**
Yeah, I liked DJ Offroseanne before
the coward sounds of Simoncowellland
killed Cool. Taxi for the Corpse of Cool/
fetch your coat, love, you've pulled the Corpse of Cool!
XXI
Since the ears dot, aural laurels were hot.
& the beat authenticity lays down
is still the drill sergeant instrumental
that leads blind zeit pipers of all pied geists.
XXII
Lima bean fugue, forearm flash, Dear John tats.
Nocturnal vernal mental of the comeup
becomesdown w/ no summerlove, bad trip
(Raggaman Kafka say 'Uneazee Dreamz').
XXIII
'Taxi Driver' cinematography,
neon printcest of clubland signs dimmens.
Pick up your tuttifrutti braindamage
- time to go home, hungover twichildren.
http://www.pilkipedia.co.uk/wiki/index.php/Boswellox
Elizz Aug 2018
I love your eyes
I really do I don't tell you that often
If I made an honest love poem
It would be me telling you
That I wanna ****** you
With the simplicity of words and imagery
To paint the finest things that you've ever seen
Only using a flourish of an ink pen
Things that we both relate to
That we both see
I don't wanna just ****** what's in your pants
Honestly I could care less about that
I don't give a **** about it
Because love
I wanna ****** your soul
I wanna be the pied piper
That causes your laughter to dance
Through the roiling green mountain doors
Over the crooked floor
If you ever feel like you're falling
Its fine
I'm just your safety line in a roaring sea
At least I thought I was
Right now I can't really tell if you've turned into the sea
And I've turned into a helpless overboard passenger
But I know that I wanna name each and every single laugh
After a fallen star
Not the stars that sing
Prancing on the silver lined edge of a stage
The stars that tell us secrets
But only the ones who listen long enough
Patiently waiting
For knowledge to bestow their ears
That's what I wanna hear from your laugh
I wanna be dumbstruck
Simply because you smiled at me
The wind never blows against you
Or away from you
Because you
That's just how amazing you are  
That it curls and follows at your heels
That it wants to follow you
And when you snicker
Heaven collapses
And ****
**** implodes
Because the devil himself
He gets down on his knees because your snicker
Is just so holy that heaven can't exist because of it
And **** can't coincide peacefully with it
Because it'll never be able to pump out enough evil
To even conquer the pureness
Or to even hope to defeat
The wholesome goodness of that single snicker
That I out of all of the people on this planet
Have gotten you to emit
Thank you for making my frost bitten days warm again
JN Cole Jul 2018
I.
We sing we sing
We sing Save the Queen!
Cobain never wrote about you
How'd a newspaper boy
bring you to the creeps of stereos?
Castle Rock is your new
Meat Puppets song!
How we sing!
Sike!
If only you'd ever live that long
For your tiny hands
left your rulers in school

II.
Blow the conch, now
my sweet fair-haired darling
Is a beautiful boy the face of democracy?
If so, Liberty must come down
Her concrete crown must tumble down
So shall her scepter and *****
Give it to the boy who stands on his head
"No grown-ups!"
Like 'em alien
and devastatingly deviating!
At the reversed fat boy: sneer.
"***** to your ***-MAR!"
"***** to your auntie!"
***** to your specs that once kept us alive!
On the contrary he shan't practice
activism
Democracy is just a boy, after all
Who once fed ponies with sugar
over the garden wall
Who once watched snowflakes die
in their crystalline glory
Whose daddy is in the navy

III.
Tell them, sweet darling
who the Beast really is
No one can ever be quite like
The Lamb on His Throne of Gold
And His Cross of Healing
But what did you do to the lamb on his throne of beach creepers
When you poked him dead with your wooden sticks
When you gave him to the Beast of the Sea in all its obtuseness and mystery

IV.
Never say "never"!
Where has Pan gone wrong
Neverland really is never again
Raising misfits and raving moonies
and lunatics
Running up and down and in circles 'round the scar
George was right when he said
the cops will never find 'em
Neverland!
Into the lagoon, c'mon now
Don' be afraid of them shadows
dancin 'cross the blue
Don' be afraid of the reef

V.
Where have you gone wrong?
Maybe it is the death of reason and sanity
A boulder to his head
and stuff came out
Reason and Sanity fell flat against a square red rock
And the gentle surf washes over and takes them away

VI.
Who runs the black circus?
The choir boy does!
Can he play his harp?
No, but he sure as heck can sing C#!
Oh, s'that so?
And he sings:
"***** to your fire!
***** to your flame!
***** to your ardor for salvation!"
He came to steal
He came to ****
Run to the hills, littluns!
Can he not play his harp then?
Shan't he not?
F'course not!
He is friends with the ****** Beast!
The beast as flies on the Sow's violet lips
He cannot put Goliath to sleep

VII.
What was the hunt for?
Oh, you sure know how to get yourself some mice!
Master of Deception and Lies that you are!
What was the hunt for?
Thrilling ain' it?
Justify your thrill!
Come on children and follow the
Pied Piper
down to his Lake
down to the path with
shadows and tall trees
(but it seems like paradise!)
down to his Lake
with gnashing of teeth
No lake you say?
There is!
It's the one underneath the scar!
Deeper than the ocean beyond the reef

VIII.
Oh, officer!
Take a seat! Don't be shy!
Don't be reserved for there're plenty!
I'd buy you a snack!
Wait, let the choir boys do it for you!
In your plush velvet chair
recline,
come on
you deserve a ******
jolly good show
In this theatre
mechanical rounds of applause
hardwired machinery of dictation
Dictated sanity
Go tell your baboons
"Jolly Good Show!"
An' feed your green eyes
Aaron LaLux Sep 2018
She’s so cute I wanna eat her face,
like I’m high on bath salts,
she’s vegan,
but takes my tongue like a cannibal,

eat your hearts out Haters,
cut my ear off and send it to her like Van Gogh,
ear off a part of the big picture,
or rather painting we’re painting she gets the first ******,
we’re wild like animals untamable all in all the time,
into the deep end head first Geronimo cannonball,
Black Swan dive she’s gone alive,
the Pied Piper the Eyed Viper the venom & the antidote,

and I quote a quote I wrote myself,
“She’s the answer to my prayers”, the reason and the hope,

she’s the answer to my prayers,
and I don’t even pray,
okay actually on the low I do pray,
and I’ve seen a lot of amazing things but I’m still amazed,

I’m amazed,
and tomorrow isn’t promised today,
and tomorrow never comes,
but she comes and when she does she comes in waves,

I’m in a daze,
honey glazed and lovely crazed,
my bed’s a mess haven’t made it in days,
bed’s a mess but when we’re together we’ve got it made,

so perfectly misbehaved it’s insane,

lost myself then found my self all up in her maze,
and usually I’m not religious,
but she’s so delicious I must say,
thank you Lord or God Amen to her I give all thanks & praise,

and she’s so cute I wanna eat her face,
like I’m high on bath salts,
she’s vegan,
but takes my tongue like a cannibal…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

Venice, California; 2018

— The End —