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"popeye" poems
ARTICHOKES are very nice roasted with pine nuts Who likes BANANA cream pie? They say that eating CARROTS improves your eye sight Along the river Nile there are many DATE palms ELDERBERRIES make a flavorsome wine Piths from a FIG can easily get stuck between your teeth Nape tape and shape all rhyme with GRAPE HORSERADISH has a hot tangy taste ICE-PLANT is a much used vegetable in Chinese cookery The oil extract from JUNIPER BERRIES produces quine My sister likes KALE steamed with lemon rind It is so nice to munch on a LETTUCE leaf MANDARINS are presently plentiful at the green grocer's NEEPS can be mashed or left whole On a hot summer day chilled ORANGE juice goes down well Has anyone got a good PUMPKIN scone recipe? Lashings of QUINCE jam were spread on my toast The lady next door grows RHUBARB SPINACH gave Popeye much strength Smothering sausages in TOMATO sauce is sensational UGLI is a member of the citrus family In New Orleans you'll find fresh VELVET BEANS WATERCRESS salad is so easy to prepare XIGUA is a type of WATERMELON YAMS are a staple of the New Guinean diet ZUCCHINI bread is delicious fair
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Aug 31, 2013
Aug 31, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
ABC Poem (Fruit and Vegetables)
City rush me Pretty push Did he see? The wish on Hard on_____ Sunday I thought A rush of pluses +++ He won Be on time if not - - - Monday be good to me Rumors Fantasy thoughts I am What I am Not Popeye Going day back I need a third eye I am All free Robin Bird From everyone Wait!! Don't rush me I love everyone______* Newspaper's Sunday Daily News Poem touchdown My poem stood With the others I bowed ((Gladly))______ Waking up To a Racers- mouth Ray____ speed lover No homework All game Sunday____ Candles burned The House flamed "Procrastinator" I'll be back "Destroyer-Terminator" Coffee drug me percolator He April fools her Shopping Sunday right up magnifying dress He is back Not the future Smart *** tricks On the Escalator He Jeremy irons out her clothes That's it!!! Never rushed on Sunday To make a mob hit The call girls Busy- tight pants So Panicked Monday's religiously Hooked in Scientology So ****** in Not to ever kiss her on a Sunday He bunked into ((God)) Poem ritual bunk bed Well NYC Cabbie, he will never take it on Sunday The big game crazies The flower shops of horror Emptied out with Moms Tiger Lillies Smelling Mad Men hungover Rush hour Tv movie Hangover Jet game Sprinkler shower Opening up The door to his apartment Big Girly hoarder mess After a long talk night Saturday Night Brooklyn The Disco Queen bridge-sight His Mom is still oiling His BMW Racecar with Hot fire Crisco he will never be rushed out the door His car never starts Sunday or a Monday Teased on Tuesday Wednesday shes wild Thursday Ladies drink for free____ She got her husband to buy her cushion cut square On Sunday Do it or dare She's hanging low Times Square Girly rough Brooklyn tough Channel blush On Sunday he is so wired bushed
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC
Never Rushed on Sunday
City rush me Pretty push Did he see? The wish on Hard on_____ Sunday I thought A rush of pluses +++ He won Be on time if not - - - Monday be good to me Rumors Fantasy thoughts I am What I am Not Popeye Going day back I need a third eye I am All free Robin Bird From everyone Wait!! Don't rush me I love everyone______* Newspaper's Sunday Daily News Poem touchdown My poem stood With the others I bowed ((Gladly))______ Waking up To a Racers- mouth Ray____ speed lover No homework All game Sunday____ Candles burned The House flamed "Procrastinator" I'll be back "Destroyer-Terminator" Coffee drug me percolator He April fools her Shopping Sunday right up magnifying dress He is back Not the future Smart *** tricks On the Escalator He Jeremy irons out her clothes That's it!!! Never rushed on Sunday To make a mob hit The call girls Busy- tight pants So Panicked Monday's religiously Hooked in Scientology So ****** in Not to ever kiss her on a Sunday He bunked into ((God)) Poem ritual bunk bed Well NYC Cabbie, he will never take it on Sunday The big game crazies The flower shops of horror Emptied out with Moms Tiger Lillies Smelling Mad Men hungover Rush hour Tv movie Hangover Jet game Sprinkler shower Opening up The door to his apartment Big Girly hoarder mess After a long talk night Saturday Night Brooklyn The Disco Queen bridge-sight His Mom is still oiling His BMW Racecar with Hot fire Crisco he will never be rushed out the door His car never starts Sunday or a Monday Teased on Tuesday Wednesday shes wild Thursday Ladies drink for free____ She got her husband to buy her cushion cut square On Sunday Do it or dare She's hanging low Times Square Girly rough Brooklyn tough Channel blush On Sunday he is so wired bushed
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154
I keep my head up, lips snarled and puckered, teeth show, nose high, squinted eyes, you can see death in them. I look to the left, I look to the right, now it's time to fight, 3-2-1 take flight, we go all night, keep my fist packed tight, and if I lose I'll be back looking through my iron sight. This is the law of the land, dog eat dog, tooth for tooth, an eye for eye, kill or be killed, I'm a killer with a blood instinct. Came up in the mafia vicinage, we live life this ain't no scrimmage, live by Omerta it ain't no image, living life without problems is a privilege, when you start talking to cops you finished, that's how we get down in my evil village, nothing changed we all living vintage, I can see you coming in with your gimmick, don't try to test my limit, I'm Popeye on steroids and spinach. Rimani persone reali.
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Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Evil Dead
White as winter skin, expressionless faces z i p on by, looking straight ahead Timepieces remembered, drudgery over leisure time All in cadence, same beat, same drummer Putting on Mona Lisa smiles and handing out business cards Numbers dominate words, words mesh with numbers Fast food, fast digestive systems join Popeye's Whimpey ranks Plop Plop, fizz fizz Companies, corporations, amalgamations merge then COLLIDE!!!
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Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
BUSINESS HOURS
I'll go along with the thought, 'work makes you strong' just as long as I can but, sometimes, I feel pooped and can't jump through the hoops and that's when the dreaming kicks in for this man. I spin in the frame of life's arcade type game and I'm lost in the wheels, it feels like, riding a bike and not watching the street but meeting the idols I'd most like to meet, like, Gulliver,Gilbert and Sullivan,Jimmy Durante,Popeye the sailor and the Tailor of Gloucester, lost in the throng and unaware of time carrying on,I get older,no wiser,no miser am I, I give my dreams freely to those I love dearly. This arcade game plays on though the moment is lost, and reality arrives if only to remind me, that life goes along and in it you'll find me,playing the machines,winning more dreams,sailing through the streams of unconsciousness.
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Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 5:00 AM UTC
Under Brighton pier.
dead bodies while alive poor Porphyria strangled by her own hair which could be no Fairy tale , jabberwocky, listens as does that famous semicolon concise; By Ezra Pound.   creepy innocence or infamous we all get to sooner. On to Popeye "Farm Implements......" title and poem supplied by Ashbury, hang  an albatross but don't shoot it Mr. Coleridge, it will hang around your neck.
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
attractive opposites
Well Annie now you've done it through your gyrations,  characterizations imitations a spot of light of spirit flipped out into the ether like some kind of spiritual dandruff all crystal prisms twinkling stars shook off of you and floated through my eyes and ears and penetrated and infused my pumping heart through my circulatory system snapping synaptic changes, touching those places of dreams and trances. Well Annie now you've done it all night long with images of Olive Oil and no Popeye I have become a sailor man unmoored from the safety of the slip dragging the anchor until the tether breaks and find myself floating on some Jungian sea of the unconscious far away from the shore. Well Annie now you've really done it - How will this all play out when walking down the faux marble hallways as I roll up one wave of imitation and down another in clients/secretaries/billing clerks deranged psychiatrists stories and all of this reality grabbing trying ranting riffing how is this all going to play out when strange guerilla theatre erupts on backwards in administrators offices and leadership committee meetings when I spread my  legs as my grand opening in carrot top hangings and turn to clients offer them too this spirit spark of courage. Well you've really done it this time Annie when my door is locked and pagers are begging for my attention but I will be in the room at that desk throwing rules, regulations and my professional reputation to the current winds of unwinding truths and soulful stories. When they turn to me and ask for my forgiveness in their true confession or when I shift shapes to the big onion when everyone who wanders near weeps when they ask me for that magic sentence to make it all okay or write a treatment plan or just a hand on the shoulder; as they begin to talk like rooms of old echoes- I will tell them that will cost them extra. You've done it now Annie forever in my minute little world rocked the boat that spirit like the butterfly wings causing the hurricane of courage. You've done it now Olive Oil Annie I have found my spinach and freedom cannot be far behind...
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Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
Well Annie Now You've Done It
Well Annie now you've done it through your gyrations,  characterizations imitations a spot of light of spirit flipped out into the ether like some kind of spiritual dandruff all crystal prisms twinkling stars shook off of you and floated through my eyes and ears and penetrated and infused my pumping heart through my circulatory system snapping synaptic changes, touching those places of dreams and trances. Well Annie now you've done it all night long with images of Olive Oil and no Popeye I have become a sailor man unmoored from the safety of the slip dragging the anchor until the tether breaks and find myself floating on some Jungian sea of the unconscious far away from the shore. Well Annie now you've really done it - How will this all play out when walking down the faux marble hallways as I roll up one wave of imitation and down another in clients/secretaries/billing clerks deranged psychiatrists stories and all of this reality grabbing trying ranting riffing how is this all going to play out when strange guerilla theatre erupts on backwards in administrators offices and leadership committee meetings when I spread my  legs as my grand opening in carrot top hangings and turn to clients offer them too this spirit spark of courage. Well you've really done it this time Annie when my door is locked and pagers are begging for my attention but I will be in the room at that desk throwing rules, regulations and my professional reputation to the current winds of unwinding truths and soulful stories. When they turn to me and ask for my forgiveness in their true confession or when I shift shapes to the big onion when everyone who wanders near weeps when they ask me for that magic sentence to make it all okay or write a treatment plan or just a hand on the shoulder; as they begin to talk like rooms of old echoes- I will tell them that will cost them extra. You've done it now Annie forever in my minute little world rocked the boat that spirit like the butterfly wings causing the hurricane of courage. You've done it now Olive Oil Annie I have found my spinach and freedom cannot be far behind...
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80
The singing birds may waken you in the morning, only to expose you to another day of uncertain disconnectedness. However, the late afternoon handling of newspapers could result in textured fingers and a black nose, whilst ice-cold rain pelts against your jacket with a forceful concerto of magical precipitation. As you stand dripping wet, my indulgent adolescent of traumatic naivety, always remember that Popeye will be speeding hastily toward your confectionary impulses. The dog behaved like a royal prince, as he gracefully licked ice-cream from the cone of his masters’ desire. Further Turkish amazement could be found in the palm of his hand, whilst snowflakes fell, and the tracks of police vehicles gradually faded during blizzards of the night. Silence truly speaks across pink morning skies, as we gaze out of the window into resounding flights of fancy.
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Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
Auditory Solitude
Popeye I see you downing spinach by the can your cartoonist heart giving strength over Brutus adds so much to my cooking spinach
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
Popeye
Woke up this morning I was tired as hell, decided I would sit in the garden and dwell, On the last weekend of pubs and clubs,when my ears picked up this feeble buzz, Now usually the buzzin’ is my bassbox boomin’ but my bassbox bins were still back in my room, Looked at my feet and to my surprise was a big bumblebee who’d fallen from the skies, He looked worn out,torn up up,but still a lil’ fighter, musta gotten separated from the rest of his flight yeah, So I remembered a tale taught by my mum,how to get a tired bee back to buzzin and hummin, Put some salt and some water in a little saucer,and watch him build up his strength like a sorcerer, But I decided to add my own twist to the game,so the Manuka honey,out she came, Put a little dose of each in the saucer on the ground,so I could help the lil’ fella start buzzin around. Helped him over the lip of the saucer quick,he looked about done in til he gave it a sip, Then like popeye with spinach he started to swell,comin’ hummin like  a trooper from the gates of hell, From close to the end he was like Zip Zing!,floatin’ like a butterfly,ready to sting, He took off and flew around all my ma’s fresh roses,full of beans, lookin mean striking Irish bee poses, Then he landed on my hand but not to sting me up, Took a little Bee bow then rose right up, And I coulda swore I heard  a voice hummin out to me, "Thanks man you really helped out this busy bee", He floated like a butterfly off my hand ready to sting if needed on the flowers he lands, Then I gave him a wave and went on my way, and started the bee- ginnings of my own busy day.
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 3:50 PM UTC
A Sting in the Tale
Woke up this morning I was tired as hell, decided I would sit in the garden and dwell, On the last weekend of pubs and clubs,when my ears picked up this feeble buzz, Now usually the buzzin’ is my bassbox boomin’ but my bassbox bins were still back in my room, Looked at my feet and to my surprise was a big bumblebee who’d fallen from the skies, He looked worn out,torn up up,but still a lil’ fighter, musta gotten separated from the rest of his flight yeah, So I remembered a tale taught by my mum,how to get a tired bee back to buzzin and hummin, Put some salt and some water in a little saucer,and watch him build up his strength like a sorcerer, But I decided to add my own twist to the game,so the Manuka honey,out she came, Put a little dose of each in the saucer on the ground,so I could help the lil’ fella start buzzin around. Helped him over the lip of the saucer quick,he looked about done in til he gave it a sip, Then like popeye with spinach he started to swell,comin’ hummin like  a trooper from the gates of hell, From close to the end he was like Zip Zing!,floatin’ like a butterfly,ready to sting, He took off and flew around all my ma’s fresh roses,full of beans, lookin mean striking Irish bee poses, Then he landed on my hand but not to sting me up, Took a little Bee bow then rose right up, And I coulda swore I heard  a voice hummin out to me, "Thanks man you really helped out this busy bee", He floated like a butterfly off my hand ready to sting if needed on the flowers he lands, Then I gave him a wave and went on my way, and started the bee- ginnings of my own busy day.
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19
You brought us so much happiness, You taught us how to laugh, You brought us Mork and Mindy, Didn't do comedy by half, Popeye the spinach eating sailor, Patch Adams' squeaky shoes, Happy films made for kids, Childhood's not to lose, Things we didn't understand, About your private life, About the drink and drugs, And depression that was rife, The day that comedy died, The day you took your life, The family that will miss you, The sadness of your wife.
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Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 2:48 PM UTC
Robin Williams
Today I am slickly coated with the sheen of a long walk, only holding hands with purpose; the goal to find it. The destination that holds promise according to the latest yelp reviews- promise worth remembering while bearing the heat of the summer subways, the morose and lonely feeling of watching a couple cling to each other as the trains swing our bodies around. When the stench of the city streets- the receptacles for those who can't wait any longer, invade our noses like they were home. The promise that morphs into ringing in my head when my stomach grumbles next to the carts on the sidewalks with the burning flesh they call halal meat, smells warm and familiar sharing shish kabob kisses and chicken knishes, but I've left those days behind me. Now I'm scouring the streets of Brooklyn, for that new chic creperie sans animals, things with faces, or friends if you will, screaming "Find me!" whilst dodging the heady scents of Popeye's, and bacon egg and cheeses, meat markets, fish markets, bright moving ads, of women ******** clad eating burgers. Would you like lox or sturgeon with that bagel? and when I do get to the little mom-and-pop of a hole-in-the-wall cafe, I think of the carnivorous brothers and sisters that have had the meatballs to join me. The countless nights I've had to explain where I get my protein from, that yes, I can eat pizza. And no, it's not a travesty that I want to give up cheese. Because the real travesty is in the this country's handling of living things, and by animals- I mean all of us. And carnivorous brothers and sisters, when you're feeling threatened and defensive- and you've got guilt and entitlement coursing through your friend-fed veins and thus you claim, We're shoving our vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian efforts down your throats. Think again and know that we're only doing the best we can to help what we believe in. That we eat and live with purpose and promise in mind. Real women can eat vegetables too. You can take vegetarians to barbecues. Trust me, we're good at co-existing, Are you?
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Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
To my carnivorous friends
Today I am slickly coated with the sheen of a long walk, only holding hands with purpose; the goal to find it. The destination that holds promise according to the latest yelp reviews- promise worth remembering while bearing the heat of the summer subways, the morose and lonely feeling of watching a couple cling to each other as the trains swing our bodies around. When the stench of the city streets- the receptacles for those who can't wait any longer, invade our noses like they were home. The promise that morphs into ringing in my head when my stomach grumbles next to the carts on the sidewalks with the burning flesh they call halal meat, smells warm and familiar sharing shish kabob kisses and chicken knishes, but I've left those days behind me. Now I'm scouring the streets of Brooklyn, for that new chic creperie sans animals, things with faces, or friends if you will, screaming "Find me!" whilst dodging the heady scents of Popeye's, and bacon egg and cheeses, meat markets, fish markets, bright moving ads, of women ******** clad eating burgers. Would you like lox or sturgeon with that bagel? and when I do get to the little mom-and-pop of a hole-in-the-wall cafe, I think of the carnivorous brothers and sisters that have had the meatballs to join me. The countless nights I've had to explain where I get my protein from, that yes, I can eat pizza. And no, it's not a travesty that I want to give up cheese. Because the real travesty is in the this country's handling of living things, and by animals- I mean all of us. And carnivorous brothers and sisters, when you're feeling threatened and defensive- and you've got guilt and entitlement coursing through your friend-fed veins and thus you claim, We're shoving our vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian efforts down your throats. Think again and know that we're only doing the best we can to help what we believe in. That we eat and live with purpose and promise in mind. Real women can eat vegetables too. You can take vegetarians to barbecues. Trust me, we're good at co-existing, Are you?
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56
As the leaves slowly wither away and fall from their stems You stay alive and attached to my heart I can still hear your cheerful voice saying “Hello” and “Bye-bye” Attempting to speak and understand as much English as possible Because, unlike my cousins, I did not learn Spanish You were successful, whereas, I had little success Although we did not have a deep connection, we did have Memorable moments that I've kept locked up in my heart Conversations that have left imprints in my mind Photographs that tell magnificent stories You are only distant physically now And I’m thankful that God allowed me to have these memories with you Reminding me of how great of a person you were Despite those dark days when you weren't shining as bright Those times that made you lonely Sad Harsh Taught you lessons that you kept with you for the rest of your life You were strong Smart Kind Always striving to become a better husband, dad, grandfather, friend, brother, and a better you Though you began to become as fragile as a baby towards the end You were still as strong as Popeye in my eyes Now I have two guardian angels watching over me Two angels that I will eventually meet again and rejoice with. Abuelo, no habla mucho español, pero te amo y I miss you already. I’ll see you again, pero por ahora Adios. |s.s|
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Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 11:57 PM UTC
Fall
Broken lines dangle between Vital voices at Waterloo. Slick Rick on one end, Skips and laughs- Parading his mangled heart On his crookedly stolen stick- Draws circles with it Around a blinking fire That has risen, Around some bush. Olive sits firmly, Scissors in hand, Eyes shut, palms to the skies, Though, She skips and laughs sneakily, Crying out, please, oh Popeye, Save me! Having slipped out of the bind, Rick put her in. 6 Silver bunnies, With empty pockets, Sit, twitching On gold mine expenses, Looking for those who will come With precious carrots, Once word spreads of their Glinting furs.
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Aug 1, 2011
Aug 1, 2011 at 4:53 PM UTC
6 Silver Bunnies At Waterloo
Fly by night, Or the seat of your pants Hang on tight, May I have the next dance? Take a deep breath, Or a load off your feet, Hey pretty mama, May I sit in this seat? Snoopy and Sloopy and Sloop John B too Don’t you know I think I love you? All night long, Nothing else can compare Mickey Mouse, Elvis, Frankie, Annette Down on the corner, cool Cigarette. All grown up With no where to go I left it to ****** But he didn’t know Wally and Eddie Were out selling drugs Popeye and Brutus Were two vicious thugs. In the Fifities and Sixties: It was hard to keep up “They” fed us the Kool Aid We drank from the cup. Kent State and Woodstock And a man on the moon, Kaleidoscope childhood, Ended too soon. Phil Lindsey 9/16/15
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 11:14 AM UTC
Kaleidoscope Kids
Here's their "knowledge" Here's the scoop NOT scuttlebutt... the REAL **** Be ye Popeye or Betty Boop They will draw you in their loop... This rope will hold you... it ain't loose You will find it is a NOOSE. This is interesting to read Though it's crazy... that's agreed You'll think these people smokin' **** In the beginning there were some *thetans (Interesting that rhymes with SATAN)* They were bored with all the waiting They were bored. Nothing to do. These thetans could be me or you Then... VIOLA... right on cue... Here's an idea! The other shoe! YES! Let's PLAY! We'll play a GAME! It will be FUN! IT HAS A NAME! M atter. E nergy. S pace. T ime. The MEST universe! How sublime! To find it's secrets will cost no dime But thousands of BUCKS! Should be a CRIME. So these thetans all AGREE. IT WAS THAT AGREEMENT, you see. The M. E. S. T. Universe. *(Smokin' TREE? Was Ronnie Hubbard on LSD?)* We were AGREED you & me That this game would then just BE. Dynamite brains blow off my HAT? It don't need no S.A.T. My mind needs no extra watts To figure out the problem with THAT. **Can you think of ANY COUPLE Whether married for 60 years WHO AGREE ON EVERYTHING??? RIDICULOUS.** So there you have it. Their Genesis I'll bring you more. There's quite a list. But I think you have the gist. SCIENCE FICTION!!! Not M. E. S. T. but MISSED! Catherine E Jarvis SoulSurvivor (C) 2/23/2017
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Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 2:58 AM UTC
SCIENTOLOGY GENESIS
I quit Cause you are not worth The sea of salted tears That spill Assaulting me You are not worth The red elixir That feeds Your distorted Vampire needs I retire Before my will expires Because I am tired Of seeing spires Of factories Smoking pollutants Choking all humans I am through With claiming That the truth Will set us free When all I see Is a bubonic plague Festering and growing Tumorous cities Of infinite stupidity I am finished There is not enough spinach To Popeye my way out So I exit stage Flesh and rage Pull back those skin pages That life was written on Letting strangers carryon As the carrions come To devour me Cause I am ******* done
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Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
Untitled
Was Olive oyle anorexic ?. Olive couldn't make her mind up. clean shaven or hairy. Popeye was sprung. Who was sweet pea's daddy? Was miss Oyle on the down low?
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 10:02 AM UTC
Thinny
On October 19 2021 Was a terrible day For people who knew linden sims You see linden was nice to me When I was a drunk When nobody else was But he just flew away from me So on October 19 Ted bundy And Ronnie Biggs Came into linden’s head when he Was asleep and whisked him away To outer space and tied him up Really tight and linden was saying HELP HELP HELP ME Ronnie and Ted both yelled at him Saying why don’t you shut your trap You weren’t normal in this past life But I will **** you And make you suffer ‘linden’ You will die you will die mr sims And you will go to hell Popeye was an evil character And so are you linden They told linden that they have just killed him and he won’t see the sims family again And that will be cool for us I want you to be normal But not a family person I want you to be a troubled kid Where you will constantly suffer Nobody will save you NOBODY will SAVE you ‘Linden ‘ Then I came in and said leave linden Alone He was nice to me in the 90s And I am repaying his niceness By freeing him from these two criminals Suddenly Ted bundy put me and linden in a fire pit and threatened to **** us I got out but linden couldn’t And I took linden over to BUDDHA To free lindens spirit Buddha and I said Linden sims You will be free from suffering now You will go off into your next life Where you will have a family That really loves you And I thank you for giving me somebody To muck around with at raid basketball I know I was a DRUNK I will send you to the next life you have Just look at your suffering as POSITIVE You were a great friend to me back then Linden smith Have a great future life And then I sent Ted and Ronnie back to Mercury to suffer in silence But not before lindens death But he will head to his next life Catch ya later dude
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Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 9:16 AM UTC
GOODBYE LINDEN SIMS
On October 19 2021 Was a terrible day For people who knew linden sims You see linden was nice to me When I was a drunk When nobody else was But he just flew away from me So on October 19 Ted bundy And Ronnie Biggs Came into linden’s head when he Was asleep and whisked him away To outer space and tied him up Really tight and linden was saying HELP HELP HELP ME Ronnie and Ted both yelled at him Saying why don’t you shut your trap You weren’t normal in this past life But I will **** you And make you suffer ‘linden’ You will die you will die mr sims And you will go to hell Popeye was an evil character And so are you linden They told linden that they have just killed him and he won’t see the sims family again And that will be cool for us I want you to be normal But not a family person I want you to be a troubled kid Where you will constantly suffer Nobody will save you NOBODY will SAVE you ‘Linden ‘ Then I came in and said leave linden Alone He was nice to me in the 90s And I am repaying his niceness By freeing him from these two criminals Suddenly Ted bundy put me and linden in a fire pit and threatened to **** us I got out but linden couldn’t And I took linden over to BUDDHA To free lindens spirit Buddha and I said Linden sims You will be free from suffering now You will go off into your next life Where you will have a family That really loves you And I thank you for giving me somebody To muck around with at raid basketball I know I was a DRUNK I will send you to the next life you have Just look at your suffering as POSITIVE You were a great friend to me back then Linden smith Have a great future life And then I sent Ted and Ronnie back to Mercury to suffer in silence But not before lindens death But he will head to his next life Catch ya later dude
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58
I can still feel your hot breath soaking through my detangled hair when we embraced for the last time and I still have that gross popeye tshirt buried underneath my bed, tucked away in the back and I can still feel my agitated cheeks ocassionally scraping along your face and I can still taste the salt in my mouth from when I knew that was going to be the last time and I still have our last goodbye teetering on the tip of my tongue, licking my way to the core. CVT
0
Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 10:05 PM UTC
And
Righteous squib direly free with kindly merchant must hither upon his brow the brand that may fulfill any desire though with butter in toe made greed wither which to inherit safely here his treasure.
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Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 8:09 AM UTC
Popeye
A short man who looks like Popeye, he has that grin, and his name is Edward. I worked with him the other day, he was slowly trying to communicate with me, I wasn't in the mood. I had been up for almost 27 hrs. I went to the washroom and the locker room smelled like cheap dope; there was a man hiding in the corner smoking a cigarette. The back of the factory has more freedom, the television is blasting, radios are blaring. People are always shouting, and the leader Richard, the crazy frenchy is telling me my father’s gone ******** and he can’t work anymore.
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Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 3:10 AM UTC
8.3 hour shift
Iyam wud Iyam.
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Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 10:53 AM UTC
Yep (quoting Popeye)
Jimmy was just plain right, he did nothing wrong, he kicked political correctness in the *** said it was a sad day when people couldn't talk about religion or politics or pull a race card. We called him Popeye, he said he was what he is, he was the glue of the platoon. He gave no apologies, said people could stick it where the sun didn't shine if they didn't like what he said. Seems strange now, that's the guy I'd want with me if the apocalypse came. He was no sniveler seeking pity. He was real. Not a crying faker. He disappeared in Colombia, said he was going down to check out the coffee, but I have my doubts. I miss him.
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
Jimmy was No Sniveler