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"plunderer" poems
365Nectar #60 Devour Me Fri. November 22, 2013 9:18 P.M. Devour me... A provocative passionate pouring of pillaging and plundering... A pleasing prowling of a piercing plunderer... A lovely, limp nymph laid upon a sizzling alter... Smoldering... Awakening all the senses a choking of lust unleashes exhilarating and envelops you... Effortlessly evoking ethereal... a sinister seduction seductively seduces and hungry hips breakdance with hysterical Stimulating a surreal surge of a sweet seeping... waiting... impatiently... For you to chisel an unimaginable devouring... S slow steady climb to the summit of the ultimate ****** Time- Time- Time... a tool to employ flamboyantly... immediately... eargerly... Expose my conquered heart that leaks of streams of cream of succulent sensation... Expose my tamed moistness that whispery whines as you build a legacy of torturous licking.... Seductively... Slithering in spicy spirals of stirring screams from stormy shivers of steamy anticipation of your redefining touch... Suddenly... drowning in the sticky sensation of all that is us... A tender luscious love liquefying flesh and penetrating souls... We blend in blazing bliss tapping taboo for titillating thrills you rock a rowdy ravishing inside me... I whisper wet whimpers and beg for bitten breast... Our wrestling hips hug, ***** and groan a hungry growling... Pounded into saturated submission I linger in lubricating dreams for you- to... devour me.
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC
Devour Me
Nestled in a pencil case And snuggled up in fluff There snoozed a tiny pirate man Of legendary stuff He'd spied the hidden secrets And trod the haunted shore Blu-tack Beard the buccaneer Scourge of the open floor He stole a shoe-box galleon And sailed the carpet blue With pencil mast and paper sails And crayons as his crew They forayed on the crooked tiles And crested every ridge Blu-tack Beard the scallywag The raider of the fridge When moored up in the kitchen With all his crew around The captain showed to one and all A treasure map he'd found It bore a chart of distant parts And quite a course it plot It pointed to the bathroom lands And tip-ex marked the spot They crammed the hold with cornflakes To feed them on their trip They pulled hard on the piece of string And weighed the paperclip The crew they dragged their boat aloft On neatly woven hairs Blu-tack Beard the privateer Surmounter of the stairs They heaved their vessel restlessly Atop the final brow The crayon pirates caught their breath And leaned against her bow Then scaled tiny ladders And each took to their post Blu-tack Beard was at the helm And watched the foreign coast Through countless minutes voyaging There loomed the bathroom door They slacked the sail and went below And each took to an oar They pulled a mighty rhythm Till their waxy arms were numb And Blu-tack Beard the plunderer Was beater of the drum But though they pried in every nook And each last inch of grout They skirted round the skirting board They tapped each silver spout Illusive was their bounty And they grew ever the crueller They took their skipper angrily And made him walk the ruler He landed glum and ruefully Amid the ***** socks He heard the merry spiteful sound Of laughing, taunting mocks And saw the sight of mutiny With waxen little smiles Blu-tack Beard the cast-away Alone among the tiles He commandeered a washing cloth And weaved himself a rope He scaled the dreaded washstand And stole a bar of soap He carved himself a coracle And set his sights on home Blu-tack Beard the wanderer Awash amid the foam He slithered down the stairwell And landed with a plan For warmer climes and restfulness A cocktail and a tan And so he met his final port Right then did he retire Blu-tack Beard the pensioner Of the warm spot near the fire
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Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Blu-tack Beard the Pirate
Nestled in a pencil case And snuggled up in fluff There snoozed a tiny pirate man Of legendary stuff He'd spied the hidden secrets And trod the haunted shore Blu-tack Beard the buccaneer Scourge of the open floor He stole a shoe-box galleon And sailed the carpet blue With pencil mast and paper sails And crayons as his crew They forayed on the crooked tiles And crested every ridge Blu-tack Beard the scallywag The raider of the fridge When moored up in the kitchen With all his crew around The captain showed to one and all A treasure map he'd found It bore a chart of distant parts And quite a course it plot It pointed to the bathroom lands And tip-ex marked the spot They crammed the hold with cornflakes To feed them on their trip They pulled hard on the piece of string And weighed the paperclip The crew they dragged their boat aloft On neatly woven hairs Blu-tack Beard the privateer Surmounter of the stairs They heaved their vessel restlessly Atop the final brow The crayon pirates caught their breath And leaned against her bow Then scaled tiny ladders And each took to their post Blu-tack Beard was at the helm And watched the foreign coast Through countless minutes voyaging There loomed the bathroom door They slacked the sail and went below And each took to an oar They pulled a mighty rhythm Till their waxy arms were numb And Blu-tack Beard the plunderer Was beater of the drum But though they pried in every nook And each last inch of grout They skirted round the skirting board They tapped each silver spout Illusive was their bounty And they grew ever the crueller They took their skipper angrily And made him walk the ruler He landed glum and ruefully Amid the ***** socks He heard the merry spiteful sound Of laughing, taunting mocks And saw the sight of mutiny With waxen little smiles Blu-tack Beard the cast-away Alone among the tiles He commandeered a washing cloth And weaved himself a rope He scaled the dreaded washstand And stole a bar of soap He carved himself a coracle And set his sights on home Blu-tack Beard the wanderer Awash amid the foam He slithered down the stairwell And landed with a plan For warmer climes and restfulness A cocktail and a tan And so he met his final port Right then did he retire Blu-tack Beard the pensioner Of the warm spot near the fire
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80
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men And made thee loathe thy life. The primal curse Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth, But not in vengeance. God hath yoked to guilt Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence, these shades Are still the abodes of gladness; the thick roof Of green and stirring branches is alive And musical with birds, that sing and sport In wantonness of spirit; while below The squirrel, with raised paws and form ***** Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the shade Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam That waked them into life. Even the green trees Partake the deep contentment; as they bend To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy Existence, than the winged plunderer That ***** its sweets. The massy rocks themselves, And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees That lead from knoll to knoll a causey rude Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots, With all their earth upon them, twisting high, Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks, Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice In its own being. Softly tread the marge, Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren That dips her bill in water. The cool wind, That stirs the stream in play, shall come to thee, Like one that loves thee nor will let thee pass Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace.
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Inscription For The Entrance To A Wood
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men And made thee loathe thy life. The primal curse Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth, But not in vengeance. God hath yoked to guilt Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence, these shades Are still the abodes of gladness; the thick roof Of green and stirring branches is alive And musical with birds, that sing and sport In wantonness of spirit; while below The squirrel, with raised paws and form ***** Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the shade Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam That waked them into life. Even the green trees Partake the deep contentment; as they bend To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy Existence, than the winged plunderer That ***** its sweets. The massy rocks themselves, And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees That lead from knoll to knoll a causey rude Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots, With all their earth upon them, twisting high, Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks, Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice In its own being. Softly tread the marge, Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren That dips her bill in water. The cool wind, That stirs the stream in play, shall come to thee, Like one that loves thee nor will let thee pass Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace.
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42
I plant trees, then forget; never turn back. I am not a rooted lover, plunderer or penitent, just a wayfarer, dissolving cloud, call me a seeker, still they blame me when the trees doesn't bear fruit!
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 9:51 AM UTC
Waiting for the fruits of others' karma is pointless
Proposals of intermediance, pearls to girls of sunshined radiance, playful tactics ruin the feeble mind, where states are select best of roast, biggest of all checks! Pay it forward uropian mix-match of everything best!! Keefe pebbles to match rebels on machines called J-Pay, some get out early, retreaters and women beaters in their cages must they stay!! What a day when all will be one, to not muse and pretend that were dumb, but to realize where and what we are!!! Fast lives, Fast cars, Doth thou have all that thou needest yet? Hath thou gotten old? Didst we forget? Remedic comforters, Strategic Plunderer's of downfall Capitols!!! Quotas you cannot meet if your presidents of Debauchery's height!!! Thy ancient falcon, Timeless pitching, Your a runner in thy night!! Neuraligias numbing stretches the tied suit evils, Lorn away, Away, And away!!!! Lingual we are when the lights call you for action!!!!!!! To tired for innocent play?
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
runner of thy law
My mind refers to you now as a plunderer For one who takes what isn't freely given Surely is a thief And while I smiled while you took what you took I did protest,  though not vehemently Yet softly, as is my nature And quietly,  as is yours,  you stole My ability to trust, my belief in honesty I had just relearned those qualities In one silent but grand gesture you both instilled and refuted my belief in fairytales Though you shed a light on a part of me long time dead and brought her back to life gratefully so, looking back,  the cost,   i think, is higher than I was willing To sacrifice ,  had I been offered the choice Of course,  you kept saying I could walk away not implying what staying would signify
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 6:55 AM UTC
Thief
How dare you Pillager Plunderer Robber Vandal Thief Lover Mine How dare you reduce me to rage White hot and safe Safe for my plate From which I consume mounds of animosity For the atrocity For on that afternoon I died And I'm still not alive Because of you Because you were mine You were my lover My thief My vandal You robbed my heart But then plundered my dignity And pillaged my sou How Dare You
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Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 2:51 AM UTC
The Rogue
She loves with her body Slowly moves into her mind But makes it a hobby To keep her heart hard to find She doesn't yet know that I am no plunderer My treasures of trove do not lie under her No I am the most dangerous game She doesn't know the rules or even the name She doesn't know she is already playing She doesn't know she will never be the same You see, bodies fade with time Could be gone tomorrow briefly mine But a heart is forever A soul, a serious endeavor I will not settle for any price These sheets are not my greatest vice I will not play this game of yours I will settle for nothing less nothing more My heart is set my brow is hard This puzzle will be mine to take apart I will never have enough As long as my eyes are locked above I will not take shore until I see the dove I will not give in until I have your love
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Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 2:20 PM UTC
A Dangerous Game
Listen dear listen to my enchanting encounters like gales that storm the valleys was my youth flash floods,high tides soaring soaring to unseen heights plunging deep into fathomless vortex lascivious amorous plunderer Irrespective of seasons i revelled in mirth Oh the sweet scented honey drops of the umpteen flowers... love was lavish so was lust time hugged me like a voluptious enchantress. Times change ........ Oh my dearest love who alights submissively, silently on my solitudes Tell me tell me who you are and it moves me when you say "I am the one whom you lost in your entire life!"
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Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC
AS TOLD TO ME
1. There goes Hooker’s nose Larger than life, breathed in “Majestic, it sprang” from his face “The marvel of time, the wonder of men” Molded by the General and his lyrical men 2. Whip Bobbie Lee you may, for this miracle happened in the strangest way in the meadows, in the bright of day three invaluable cigars lay 3. Some men smart in ways unimagined, appear as Janus in the midst of kings, feign blunder to catch the unsuspecting plunderer, who waltzes right in (or away) from his fate, ******* the grit out of men, they lose faith 4. To His right is the good thief and he inclines his head But a thief is a thief, nonetheless? 5. Two-hundred-ninety-nine-hundred-two men are in the cornfield, their mouths silently forming hurrahs and their hands slack at their sides. Two-hundred-ninety-nine-hundred-two-men are ****** eagles of Indiana. 6. “No shock can destroy”, the carnage of Shocksburg “The world shall behold”, “the triumph of” “Tyranny, sorrow, and darkness” “Hurrah for the” “dream of a madman, the song of a fool.” 7. McClellan sees double, no, triple. And Lincoln, victory where there isn’t. And I, beauty where one should not. 8. Let men become crusaders, emancipators, and proclamators, of all things and all things good and just. 9. Your arms resemble corn stalks and your eyes poppy seeds. Spread-eagle yourself, at the mercy of the Kingdom of Heaven. Say your last Hurrahs and clutch that laundry tight to your chest. 10. Disillusioned people get nowhere, at least illusioned people can walk themselves over to the doors of Death? 11. Samuel is like many other black laborers in the infantry-- mistaken in the most wonderful way. “Hurrah! for the Union” he says. and I begin to teach him how to write.
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 9:13 PM UTC
27th Indiana Infantry Regiment
1. There goes Hooker’s nose Larger than life, breathed in “Majestic, it sprang” from his face “The marvel of time, the wonder of men” Molded by the General and his lyrical men 2. Whip Bobbie Lee you may, for this miracle happened in the strangest way in the meadows, in the bright of day three invaluable cigars lay 3. Some men smart in ways unimagined, appear as Janus in the midst of kings, feign blunder to catch the unsuspecting plunderer, who waltzes right in (or away) from his fate, ******* the grit out of men, they lose faith 4. To His right is the good thief and he inclines his head But a thief is a thief, nonetheless? 5. Two-hundred-ninety-nine-hundred-two men are in the cornfield, their mouths silently forming hurrahs and their hands slack at their sides. Two-hundred-ninety-nine-hundred-two-men are ****** eagles of Indiana. 6. “No shock can destroy”, the carnage of Shocksburg “The world shall behold”, “the triumph of” “Tyranny, sorrow, and darkness” “Hurrah for the” “dream of a madman, the song of a fool.” 7. McClellan sees double, no, triple. And Lincoln, victory where there isn’t. And I, beauty where one should not. 8. Let men become crusaders, emancipators, and proclamators, of all things and all things good and just. 9. Your arms resemble corn stalks and your eyes poppy seeds. Spread-eagle yourself, at the mercy of the Kingdom of Heaven. Say your last Hurrahs and clutch that laundry tight to your chest. 10. Disillusioned people get nowhere, at least illusioned people can walk themselves over to the doors of Death? 11. Samuel is like many other black laborers in the infantry-- mistaken in the most wonderful way. “Hurrah! for the Union” he says. and I begin to teach him how to write.
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54
Knowledge is the great plunderer of youth Intuition was a better friend She knew before she was told Have you never felt fire of life in your belly Glass stars in your fingertips Immaturity lacks discretion Here we are silent, void of words This truly is enough If you let it be
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Jun 15, 2021
Jun 15, 2021 at 7:50 PM UTC
Silenced
Angry winds stirred up ghosts of sand As his thickly gilt coffin was paraded In front of his well wishing plunderer Dark bellied clouds loom over the spectacle They hide secrets from people, ancient and ominous Whispers like sharp bristles sting those dead ears The untimely clap of thunder is heard Rushing from the distance Like a Banshee's scream
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Jul 2, 2020
Jul 2, 2020 at 11:43 PM UTC
Tutankhamun