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"pork" poems
When i was 13 I thought that gay and straight were things that other people were People that weren't raised christian People that didn't have dads People that were abused People that i should pray for but not get close to when i was 14 my best friend came out as gay i didn't see it coming but i probably should have she wore ties every day and plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled up and cut her hair short as soon as she could but i didn’t see it because gay was other people when i was 14 i watched as the news spread like wildfire “did you hear? that girl is gay.” I watched as people slowly backed away from her people that knew her all her life that is, the people that didn’t cut her off instantly I watched as the youth group we had both attended asked her to leave I watched as her drama group kicked her out because they were afraid of the yearly camp we went to that somehow knowing that she was gay made her more likely to attack the other girls in their beds than the year before I watched. I didn’t do anything. what changed my mind wasn’t a change of perspective on queer people it still took me a year to decide being gay wasn’t wrong but i decided that my best friend was someone i would stick with because i loved her I quietly stayed. didn’t make a fuss, didn’t call people out when they called her names behind her back. I should have. but i didn’t. I didn’t join in, but i didn’t defend her i didn’t say to these people **** you that girl is beautiful and amazing and if you can’t see through your hatred then i don’t want to be your friend either but i didn’t . I didn’t go through what she did. I didn’t get kicked out of anything, i didn’t lose friends When i was 15, i got fed up I left that drama group. I stopped going to that church. I stepped away from those friends and even though i never said why the look on my face when i ran into them and they asked, “how’s she doing?” answered that question for them. I spent 24 hours examining my bible trying to find the verses that say being gay is wrong there were barely any and they were right next to verses that said eating pork was wrong or planting crops next to each other or wearing two different fabrics there was my answer. this isn't a story of my journey. This isn't me building myself up “hey, I wasn't as bad as those other people I’m good now” this is a story of how one person can change your life forever if i didn't have a gay best friend what a way to start a story, huh? if i didn't have a gay best friend then I would still be there quietly praying for the sins of others, but not trying to understand so don’t look at all Christians and say they’re awful they’re bigoted they’re judgmental because we are but often it’s because we don’t know any better teaching us kindly works leading by example.
0
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:27 AM UTC
kate-ravella
If I Didn't Have a Gay Best Friend
When i was 13 I thought that gay and straight were things that other people were People that weren't raised christian People that didn't have dads People that were abused People that i should pray for but not get close to when i was 14 my best friend came out as gay i didn't see it coming but i probably should have she wore ties every day and plaid shirts with the sleeves rolled up and cut her hair short as soon as she could but i didn’t see it because gay was other people when i was 14 i watched as the news spread like wildfire “did you hear? that girl is gay.” I watched as people slowly backed away from her people that knew her all her life that is, the people that didn’t cut her off instantly I watched as the youth group we had both attended asked her to leave I watched as her drama group kicked her out because they were afraid of the yearly camp we went to that somehow knowing that she was gay made her more likely to attack the other girls in their beds than the year before I watched. I didn’t do anything. what changed my mind wasn’t a change of perspective on queer people it still took me a year to decide being gay wasn’t wrong but i decided that my best friend was someone i would stick with because i loved her I quietly stayed. didn’t make a fuss, didn’t call people out when they called her names behind her back. I should have. but i didn’t. I didn’t join in, but i didn’t defend her i didn’t say to these people **** you that girl is beautiful and amazing and if you can’t see through your hatred then i don’t want to be your friend either but i didn’t . I didn’t go through what she did. I didn’t get kicked out of anything, i didn’t lose friends When i was 15, i got fed up I left that drama group. I stopped going to that church. I stepped away from those friends and even though i never said why the look on my face when i ran into them and they asked, “how’s she doing?” answered that question for them. I spent 24 hours examining my bible trying to find the verses that say being gay is wrong there were barely any and they were right next to verses that said eating pork was wrong or planting crops next to each other or wearing two different fabrics there was my answer. this isn't a story of my journey. This isn't me building myself up “hey, I wasn't as bad as those other people I’m good now” this is a story of how one person can change your life forever if i didn't have a gay best friend what a way to start a story, huh? if i didn't have a gay best friend then I would still be there quietly praying for the sins of others, but not trying to understand so don’t look at all Christians and say they’re awful they’re bigoted they’re judgmental because we are but often it’s because we don’t know any better teaching us kindly works leading by example.
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67
Isn't it awfully nice to have a ***** Isn't it frightfully good to have a **** It's swell to have a ****** It's divine to own a **** From the tiniest little tadger To the world's biggest ***** So, three cheers for your ***** or John Thomas. Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake, Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend, Your Percy, or your **** You can wrap it up in ribbons. You can slip it in your sock, But don't take it out in public, Or they will stick you in the dock, And you won't come back.
0
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 11:43 AM UTC
MattG
Monte Python's ***** Song
Isn't it awfully nice to have a ***** Isn't it frightfully good to have a **** It's swell to have a ****** It's divine to own a **** From the tiniest little tadger To the world's biggest ***** So, three cheers for your ***** or John Thomas. Hooray for your one-eyed trouser snake, Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend, Your Percy, or your **** You can wrap it up in ribbons. You can slip it in your sock, But don't take it out in public, Or they will stick you in the dock, And you won't come back.
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15
No sprouted wheat and soya shoots And Brussels in a cake, Carrot straw and spinach raw, (Today, I need a steak). Not thick brown rice and rice pilaw Or mushrooms creamed on toast, Turnips mashed and parsnips hashed, (I'm dreaming of a roast). Health-food folks around the world Are thinned by anxious zeal, They look for help in seafood kelp (I count on breaded veal). No smoking signs, raw mustard greens, Zucchini by the ton, Uncooked kale and bodies frail Are sure to make me run to ***** of pork and chicken thighs And standing rib, so prime, Pork chops brown and fresh ground round (I crave them all the time). Irish stews and boiled corned beef and hot dogs by the scores, or any place that saves a space For smoking carnivores.
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21.8k
Maya Angelou
The Health-Food Diner
No sprouted wheat and soya shoots And Brussels in a cake, Carrot straw and spinach raw, (Today, I need a steak). Not thick brown rice and rice pilaw Or mushrooms creamed on toast, Turnips mashed and parsnips hashed, (I'm dreaming of a roast). Health-food folks around the world Are thinned by anxious zeal, They look for help in seafood kelp (I count on breaded veal). No smoking signs, raw mustard greens, Zucchini by the ton, Uncooked kale and bodies frail Are sure to make me run to ***** of pork and chicken thighs And standing rib, so prime, Pork chops brown and fresh ground round (I crave them all the time). Irish stews and boiled corned beef and hot dogs by the scores, or any place that saves a space For smoking carnivores.
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25
Ironic it was for such Hero's Song To be played on a Mattress we call the Sea Just when your Daughter cried for your Belong We need to Sing again; Then Pray haply For the many Noble Deeds you left behind Despite this Age of the Pork Barrel's Tune Such Rumours unfound; And Profile a Lie Which most in our Office hoarded our Boon Live well Beyond, Great Sir! I take to Vow Your Aubourn Treatment to our Country's Hope Guide your Duty's Heirs; And Family enow And bring this Rosary blessed by your Pope. The Song is Sung, even on Deaf Concerns I guess it's quite Young for People to Learn.
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
xavier-paolo-josh-mandreza
Sonnet Tribute Memoriam: Philippine DILG Secretary Jesse Robredo (27 May 1958 - 18 August 2012)
Ironic it was for such Hero's Song To be played on a Mattress we call the Sea Just when your Daughter cried for your Belong We need to Sing again; Then Pray haply For the many Noble Deeds you left behind Despite this Age of the Pork Barrel's Tune Such Rumours unfound; And Profile a Lie Which most in our Office hoarded our Boon Live well Beyond, Great Sir! I take to Vow Your Aubourn Treatment to our Country's Hope Guide your Duty's Heirs; And Family enow And bring this Rosary blessed by your Pope. The Song is Sung, even on Deaf Concerns I guess it's quite Young for People to Learn.
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14
sometimes i dont eat the longest i've gone is three weeks i lay in bed ,my stomach in knots cant stand up too quickly dont wanna see spots my body failed me again bile came, hunger left i cant quite remember when water is my only friend it soothes the hurt acid reflux temporarily ends water runs down my throat when i move, it sloshes in my belly sound like waves against a boat   heartburn comes at night my body and brain are at war im kept awake while they fight headaches come back it hurts to open my eyes i know its from the calories i lack when i can handle a taste other then bile i eat and eat , i'm called a pork chop i know its a joke so i hide the pain with a smile if only they knew how i hate my body and the pants sizes i blew but its something i keep to myself no need to bother someone else its not like am a fragile doll on a shelf ....or am I ?
0
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 1:41 PM UTC
userunknown
Eat
sometimes i dont eat the longest i've gone is three weeks i lay in bed ,my stomach in knots cant stand up too quickly dont wanna see spots my body failed me again bile came, hunger left i cant quite remember when water is my only friend it soothes the hurt acid reflux temporarily ends water runs down my throat when i move, it sloshes in my belly sound like waves against a boat   heartburn comes at night my body and brain are at war im kept awake while they fight headaches come back it hurts to open my eyes i know its from the calories i lack when i can handle a taste other then bile i eat and eat , i'm called a pork chop i know its a joke so i hide the pain with a smile if only they knew how i hate my body and the pants sizes i blew but its something i keep to myself no need to bother someone else its not like am a fragile doll on a shelf ....or am I ?
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31
Did you know that if you pour fat on a stone God will eat it and chip his teeth becoming, ...angry? Did you know that? Is that, ...literal? in meaning... did God once bite a man's flesh consuming his shoulder; like a pork shoulder? Did God do that? Maybe God just shouldered, ...the burden of... silly men and teacher's tales? Maybe he didn't chip his teeth at all? Perhaps he swallowed something ridiculous? *I don't know, Believe what you like... From space the Peloponnese, appear like a chewed-up shoulder.* Don't they?
0
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 9:34 PM UTC
david-john-mowers
Conversation on Zeus,
Did you know that if you pour fat on a stone God will eat it and chip his teeth becoming, ...angry? Did you know that? Is that, ...literal? in meaning... did God once bite a man's flesh consuming his shoulder; like a pork shoulder? Did God do that? Maybe God just shouldered, ...the burden of... silly men and teacher's tales? Maybe he didn't chip his teeth at all? Perhaps he swallowed something ridiculous? *I don't know, Believe what you like... From space the Peloponnese, appear like a chewed-up shoulder.* Don't they?
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22
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit- man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon. In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations! What peaches and what penumbras! Whole fam- ilies shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garcнa Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons? I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys. I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel? I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective. We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier. Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight? (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.) Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely. Will we stroll dreaming ofthe lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage? Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage- teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe? Berkeley 1955
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8.4k
Allen Ginsberg
A Supermarket In California
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit- man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon. In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations! What peaches and what penumbras! Whole fam- ilies shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garcнa Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons? I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys. I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel? I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective. We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier. Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight? (I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.) Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely. Will we stroll dreaming ofthe lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage? Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage- teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe? Berkeley 1955
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40
The feds are making headway (generously passing out their treats!) *while the whistle blower and his boon companion hit the 22nd floor* fiscal plans are tidily falling into place and the suits are all busy chasing their dimes dancing around the spire full of wine and cheer (seems the demand side imbalance has got everyone doing the same old shimmy!) they’re all studying their bollinger bands MACD's, and treasuries just like the good old days santali would say while capitol hill is busy with its own pleasantries; *repatriate that currency hold those rates bring the boys back home!* the affirmations are robust and filled with glee! conspiracy thinkers are busy in their own back rooms initiating the trade and building their counter claims as pork bellies and soybeans continue to soar (looks like eddy and the margin men are at it again!) what happened to that bear masquerade anyways? they really were a band of brothers colourful clowns with big painted smiles ready to lead in any parade but they met with the resistance a horned wall satan’s horsemen riding high with bags hung heavy under dark squinting eyes are we near an end? the undertakers will say it's only a blink of an eye to the thin red line where risk takers and front men all jump ship debt addiction is crippling and hell breaks loose when entitlements are out and towels are thrown in there’s a center piece here those pugnacious statesmen with invigorating tales have had their place time to clip them at the limbs and pull the punch from the bowl (sobriety has its merits you know!) let’s head to the commission and throw darts to the board ~ seems the moral blueprints are fading
0
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
ck-baker
Bull Run
The feds are making headway (generously passing out their treats!) *while the whistle blower and his boon companion hit the 22nd floor* fiscal plans are tidily falling into place and the suits are all busy chasing their dimes dancing around the spire full of wine and cheer (seems the demand side imbalance has got everyone doing the same old shimmy!) they’re all studying their bollinger bands MACD's, and treasuries just like the good old days santali would say while capitol hill is busy with its own pleasantries; *repatriate that currency hold those rates bring the boys back home!* the affirmations are robust and filled with glee! conspiracy thinkers are busy in their own back rooms initiating the trade and building their counter claims as pork bellies and soybeans continue to soar (looks like eddy and the margin men are at it again!) what happened to that bear masquerade anyways? they really were a band of brothers colourful clowns with big painted smiles ready to lead in any parade but they met with the resistance a horned wall satan’s horsemen riding high with bags hung heavy under dark squinting eyes are we near an end? the undertakers will say it's only a blink of an eye to the thin red line where risk takers and front men all jump ship debt addiction is crippling and hell breaks loose when entitlements are out and towels are thrown in there’s a center piece here those pugnacious statesmen with invigorating tales have had their place time to clip them at the limbs and pull the punch from the bowl (sobriety has its merits you know!) let’s head to the commission and throw darts to the board ~ seems the moral blueprints are fading
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63
Take a butchers at this me old Chinas. Slip ya Plates o' Meat into ya Jacks, brew up a nice cup o' Rosy, and if you haven't got a Scooby what I'm on about, feel free to fire me off a Jimmy Nail and tell me it's a load of old cobblers. Can you Adam an' Eve it, I left me Dog 'n' Bone on the Apples and when I went to call the Trouble 'n' Strife some joker had Half-Inched it. But that's not the worst of it. When I got back to the Cat and Mouse she'd done a bunk in me shiny new Jam Jar. I couldn't believe me Pork Pies! So here I am all on me Todd, me only transport a ****** old **** van **** Gordon Bennett! I'm goin' down the ****** for a few Britneys, gonna get totally Brahms and List and blow a big fat raspberry at the whole thing. Tomorrow's another bale 'o' hay.
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Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC
martin
Cockney Sparrah
Take a butchers at this me old Chinas. Slip ya Plates o' Meat into ya Jacks, brew up a nice cup o' Rosy, and if you haven't got a Scooby what I'm on about, feel free to fire me off a Jimmy Nail and tell me it's a load of old cobblers. Can you Adam an' Eve it, I left me Dog 'n' Bone on the Apples and when I went to call the Trouble 'n' Strife some joker had Half-Inched it. But that's not the worst of it. When I got back to the Cat and Mouse she'd done a bunk in me shiny new Jam Jar. I couldn't believe me Pork Pies! So here I am all on me Todd, me only transport a ****** old **** van **** Gordon Bennett! I'm goin' down the ****** for a few Britneys, gonna get totally Brahms and List and blow a big fat raspberry at the whole thing. Tomorrow's another bale 'o' hay.
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21
Vb a mans drink only consumed by AFL players i dont play but i still drink it dont even give a **** yolo mr patch is a ***** bich keen for that vb when i get home, in the fridge need a new carton ******* hell maclean high has the cross country today dont even wanna go wanna drink my vb keen for some steak and pork with a side of vb aussie mate, get some stickes on my commy vb stickers oi **** come round later for a bbq and a vb tru auzie
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Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 9:34 PM UTC
louis-bitchop
Victorian Bitter
Vb a mans drink only consumed by AFL players i dont play but i still drink it dont even give a **** yolo mr patch is a ***** bich keen for that vb when i get home, in the fridge need a new carton ******* hell maclean high has the cross country today dont even wanna go wanna drink my vb keen for some steak and pork with a side of vb aussie mate, get some stickes on my commy vb stickers oi **** come round later for a bbq and a vb tru auzie
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19
I remember Sunday dinner that granny used to make enough to feed an army piled on each and every plate three kinds of potatoes boiled, mashed and roast Chicken, pork & roast beef and a glass of wine to toast and veggies from her garden that grew right there herself no canned corn from Guatemala would you find upon her shelf there'd be carrots, peas and parnips brocolli & cabbage too and anything that wasn't ate ended up in her famous stew but desserts, they were the best bit there was custard, pies and tarts an the only bad thing 'bout it all was knowing where to start
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May 20, 2010
May 20, 2010 at 7:26 PM UTC
a-thomas-hawkins
Sunday dinner at grans
I remember Sunday dinner that granny used to make enough to feed an army piled on each and every plate three kinds of potatoes boiled, mashed and roast Chicken, pork & roast beef and a glass of wine to toast and veggies from her garden that grew right there herself no canned corn from Guatemala would you find upon her shelf there'd be carrots, peas and parnips brocolli & cabbage too and anything that wasn't ate ended up in her famous stew but desserts, they were the best bit there was custard, pies and tarts an the only bad thing 'bout it all was knowing where to start
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20
Moonshine drinking Pork rind eatin Deer hunting women chasing tabacco chewing Bass fishing Rebel flag wavin Pick up truck driving Redneck!!
0
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
ashley-sheppard
Redneck
Moonshine drinking Pork rind eatin Deer hunting women chasing tabacco chewing Bass fishing Rebel flag wavin Pick up truck driving Redneck!!
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9
My gorilla wears tennis shoes He reads the paper and sings the blues My gorilla, my gorilla My gorilla, he's a sensitive guy I took him out for a wedding, and man did he cry! Tears all down his tie Well, he can drive most greens from the back tees But his putting brings him to his knees My gorilla, my gorilla My gorilla loves pork and beans He rides a scooter in his cut-off jeans My gorilla, my gorilla He can make a mean souffle He's great with omelets, but his specialty is flambe So I eat one every day! He's been working hard on a half pike But his cannonball empties the pool My gorilla, my gorilla My gorilla is so much fun He buys taquitos for everyone My gorilla, my gorilla My gorilla loves tequila with lime He's taking classes at a school for mime Cracks me up every time! Well, he's looking cool in his "white face" And his French beret looks oh so fine My gorilla, my gorilla Oh yeah...
0
Jan 21, 2013
Jan 21, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
alan-dickson
My Gorilla
My gorilla wears tennis shoes He reads the paper and sings the blues My gorilla, my gorilla My gorilla, he's a sensitive guy I took him out for a wedding, and man did he cry! Tears all down his tie Well, he can drive most greens from the back tees But his putting brings him to his knees My gorilla, my gorilla My gorilla loves pork and beans He rides a scooter in his cut-off jeans My gorilla, my gorilla He can make a mean souffle He's great with omelets, but his specialty is flambe So I eat one every day! He's been working hard on a half pike But his cannonball empties the pool My gorilla, my gorilla My gorilla is so much fun He buys taquitos for everyone My gorilla, my gorilla My gorilla loves tequila with lime He's taking classes at a school for mime Cracks me up every time! Well, he's looking cool in his "white face" And his French beret looks oh so fine My gorilla, my gorilla Oh yeah...
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28
I'm grinding and the dirt I'm grinding and the dirt I'm grinding and the dirt And I don't understand? I DON'T UNDERSTAND. please help me, *"The clawed hand is not for shaking, although it has amazing grip."* -zₑᵤₛ *"Eat a pork shoulder dusted in granite powder... dash of cumen, a salty pinch you'll get over it."* -ᴾᵉˡᵒᵖˢ                                                                                                      "He is a porky one isn't she?" -ᴱʳᶦˢ Betty, uh, Ms. Page, didn't it bother you? "Bother me?" Well you know, being a person of God, -doing those things for money? *"Silly, I do what I do BECAUSE I AM a believer!"* -ᴮᵉᵗᵗʸ ᴾᵃᵍᵉ
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Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 8:25 PM UTC
david-john-mowers
*****
I'm grinding and the dirt I'm grinding and the dirt I'm grinding and the dirt And I don't understand? I DON'T UNDERSTAND. please help me, *"The clawed hand is not for shaking, although it has amazing grip."* -zₑᵤₛ *"Eat a pork shoulder dusted in granite powder... dash of cumen, a salty pinch you'll get over it."* -ᴾᵉˡᵒᵖˢ                                                                                                      "He is a porky one isn't she?" -ᴱʳᶦˢ Betty, uh, Ms. Page, didn't it bother you? "Bother me?" Well you know, being a person of God, -doing those things for money? *"Silly, I do what I do BECAUSE I AM a believer!"* -ᴮᵉᵗᵗʸ ᴾᵃᵍᵉ
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25
December, 1870 After the beef was gone, after the pork and the lamb, and the fowl and the fish and the dogs, and the cats, and the rats in the gutter, the butchers turned to the zoo. We ate the wolves. We ate the wolves broiled in sauce of deer, the antelope truffled and terrined. We ate the camels with breadcrumbs and butter, and when they were all gone, we sharpened our knives and primed our guns and came back for the elephants. The gunsmith Devisme did the deed, hurled an explosive ball through each of their docile heads. They fell like mountains, like the pillars of Dagon pulled down by mighty Samson, and then we hacked them up and carted them away to the kitchens, to feed the wealthy and the rich in the clubs of bright Paris.
0
Dec 29, 2011
Dec 29, 2011 at 4:51 PM UTC
gabriel-gadfly
Castor and Pollux and the Siege of Paris
December, 1870 After the beef was gone, after the pork and the lamb, and the fowl and the fish and the dogs, and the cats, and the rats in the gutter, the butchers turned to the zoo. We ate the wolves. We ate the wolves broiled in sauce of deer, the antelope truffled and terrined. We ate the camels with breadcrumbs and butter, and when they were all gone, we sharpened our knives and primed our guns and came back for the elephants. The gunsmith Devisme did the deed, hurled an explosive ball through each of their docile heads. They fell like mountains, like the pillars of Dagon pulled down by mighty Samson, and then we hacked them up and carted them away to the kitchens, to feed the wealthy and the rich in the clubs of bright Paris.
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27
a pentagon study determined that putin is an anti-social control freak kind of vermin (really? this required a genius kind of keenness? really?) darpa should stick to cool things like the internet and invisibility cloaks and drones armed with pork parts a rodina rodent in the grain needs spankin' with more than just sanctions cuz knocking out their incisors doesn't make them any nicer - a rat with no teeth is still a rat.
0
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
r-2
putin syndrome
a pentagon study determined that putin is an anti-social control freak kind of vermin (really? this required a genius kind of keenness? really?) darpa should stick to cool things like the internet and invisibility cloaks and drones armed with pork parts a rodina rodent in the grain needs spankin' with more than just sanctions cuz knocking out their incisors doesn't make them any nicer - a rat with no teeth is still a rat.
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16
a future promise a hard on like bundled gym socks in stuffed blue jeans a future threat a shriveled phallus wrinkled obsolete she remembered fondly being beaten drum chatter and seized like slow roasted fall off the bone pulled pork ****** raggedy Ann catapulted beyond Euboean heavens ravaging scrotums Gordian ****** with her wild fiendish mouth drinking a river of haloed golden showers spit and **** in a runaway hot house of glistening pink buttery spires engorging her macerated orifices half eaten radish chocking on hordes of big do do ***** a ****** face; cross eyed Babylon abalone bashed Ashly mashed begging for a face full of swinging ***** like caped chandeliers trotting faint giggles in a constellation of ruptured arteries and thick sparked **** on her knees milk glitter faced scared with happiness she counted one smiling bruise at a time her badge of calamities black and blue silhouettes grinning invitations like party favors without a crease of shame her skin rapturous spackled patchworks bled like torrential fountains summer tide while every body had  fizzy red ice phlebotomies and steamed through her drooling tumble pie lust ***** totem house of winding labyrinths honey pumped transfusion flush on blush opera of tangled limbs red pulse wedding flowers slick ***** palace blood tongued orchard caressing knotted mooned **** spill
0
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 2:22 PM UTC
zebrablack
**** Spill
a future promise a hard on like bundled gym socks in stuffed blue jeans a future threat a shriveled phallus wrinkled obsolete she remembered fondly being beaten drum chatter and seized like slow roasted fall off the bone pulled pork ****** raggedy Ann catapulted beyond Euboean heavens ravaging scrotums Gordian ****** with her wild fiendish mouth drinking a river of haloed golden showers spit and **** in a runaway hot house of glistening pink buttery spires engorging her macerated orifices half eaten radish chocking on hordes of big do do ***** a ****** face; cross eyed Babylon abalone bashed Ashly mashed begging for a face full of swinging ***** like caped chandeliers trotting faint giggles in a constellation of ruptured arteries and thick sparked **** on her knees milk glitter faced scared with happiness she counted one smiling bruise at a time her badge of calamities black and blue silhouettes grinning invitations like party favors without a crease of shame her skin rapturous spackled patchworks bled like torrential fountains summer tide while every body had  fizzy red ice phlebotomies and steamed through her drooling tumble pie lust ***** totem house of winding labyrinths honey pumped transfusion flush on blush opera of tangled limbs red pulse wedding flowers slick ***** palace blood tongued orchard caressing knotted mooned **** spill
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55
oh right...     back in h'america it's called patriotism - but 'ere, over, Here - it's called nationalism... back on the old continent where and when all politics is far-right mantra and then you have your Victoria and Abdul - love the curry... but like the **** said... i'd prefer the aura and sauna of the... don't get me wrong: i love the food... but watching the Indian caste system?    of Indians employing slaves to build their upper-middle-class homes? more tanned? oh, you mean the Sri Lankan or the Bangladeshi poor ******** sorry... i thought all slave owners were white...       no?               oh...                                  alright... **** you then! because? next time you ask... i'll do what the Nazis did to the ******** i'll twist the star of David sideways... exposing the prayer mat and an opened book... and, as far as i am concerned, Islam is equivalent to the bubonic plague... now...    compare the geographic literature and spot the quarantine areas on a map that constitutes Europe. i'd rather die... than fiddle with a phallus for a taste of the Arabian quasi harem orchestra of... absolute... ********   Arabian women? fat hands... their hands are too fat...      they have to inter-breed to get rid of their         farmers' market of fudge fingers and knuckles... Arabian women expose what is the most **** aspect of a woman's body... their hands... Arab women have pork chops for fingers... and i'm not even sorry making this observation...     fatty extensions that you wish could at least succumb to the esteem of a pork head terrine. Arab women can wear their niqab, or whatever the hell they wear... one problem... FAT..... HANDS... FAT.... FINGERS... hell, hide them... these women are worth half the erection's worth in the *********** market of feminine hands... Arab women are no possessed with geisha hands... porcelain architecture... they're not tender... slight, polite... the hands of Arab women are the hands of European women... who have a legitimate sway on arable land, that is fertile with either potatoes or cabbage; well... fat fingers eager to harvest ginger (roots) - what can i say... no matter the diamond, or the European ***** the hand is still looking readily available to milk a ******* camel.
0
Sep 2, 2018
Sep 2, 2018 at 8:32 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
karma
oh right...     back in h'america it's called patriotism - but 'ere, over, Here - it's called nationalism... back on the old continent where and when all politics is far-right mantra and then you have your Victoria and Abdul - love the curry... but like the **** said... i'd prefer the aura and sauna of the... don't get me wrong: i love the food... but watching the Indian caste system?    of Indians employing slaves to build their upper-middle-class homes? more tanned? oh, you mean the Sri Lankan or the Bangladeshi poor ******** sorry... i thought all slave owners were white...       no?               oh...                                  alright... **** you then! because? next time you ask... i'll do what the Nazis did to the ******** i'll twist the star of David sideways... exposing the prayer mat and an opened book... and, as far as i am concerned, Islam is equivalent to the bubonic plague... now...    compare the geographic literature and spot the quarantine areas on a map that constitutes Europe. i'd rather die... than fiddle with a phallus for a taste of the Arabian quasi harem orchestra of... absolute... ********   Arabian women? fat hands... their hands are too fat...      they have to inter-breed to get rid of their         farmers' market of fudge fingers and knuckles... Arabian women expose what is the most **** aspect of a woman's body... their hands... Arab women have pork chops for fingers... and i'm not even sorry making this observation...     fatty extensions that you wish could at least succumb to the esteem of a pork head terrine. Arab women can wear their niqab, or whatever the hell they wear... one problem... FAT..... HANDS... FAT.... FINGERS... hell, hide them... these women are worth half the erection's worth in the *********** market of feminine hands... Arab women are no possessed with geisha hands... porcelain architecture... they're not tender... slight, polite... the hands of Arab women are the hands of European women... who have a legitimate sway on arable land, that is fertile with either potatoes or cabbage; well... fat fingers eager to harvest ginger (roots) - what can i say... no matter the diamond, or the European ***** the hand is still looking readily available to milk a ******* camel.
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92
Ever heard your voice take a trip mid sentence And start scrambling eggs, Ending sentences with verbs, Mixing Soy sauce with Bacardi And chasing the laughter down your throat with onions Cuckolding in the middle of the afternoon Where violet doesn’t recognize blue As a hue worthy enough to frolic with the afternoon dew, And then your brain smiles to your ****** And you choke on a giggle And wiggle an index finger just a little And remember black widows Were once angels who bought into self fulfilling prophecies Like wearing Armani suits barefoot And breathing through your skin Hoping life doesn’t die in your arms And leave a beautiful corpse With great stories suffocating inside And make the subpar ambitions of an unborn child jealous. Now ever heard a genius cry? ‘cause then you’ve heard an artist cry. Ever ate pork fried rice on a Sunday afternoon? ‘cause if you have you’ve heard the words of Leviticus cry. Ever read these written words? ‘cause if you have you’ve heard memories die And pains scream in alphabets of pleasure— The universal language of immaculate deception That sweeps through every tongue in involuntary pneumonia Like waltzing to the Amen’s of the devil With oxygen choking your nostrils And monoxide nodding your fingers to pull the trigger Of death dancing on the tomb of your destiny Like how a dose of metamorphosis And a 1mg of juxtaposition Is the repertoire of a king of curmudgeon. But ever heard a musical note?   Then you’ve heard the story of how joy lost the war of happiness to bitterness. Ever heard the sound of silence? Then you’ve heard the face of evil and the thoughts of serenity Joined at the hip of rock of Gibraltar, Nodding heads at the gospels of Gothic prophets Spewing sermons of a perfecter way to word the meaning of love. Ever heard a Mockingjay sing? Then you’ve heard the lullabies of suicide, Like falling from grace from the eyes of your one true love And landing on the plastic bag made of her silence Only to wake from the land of death and catch your voice breaking at mid sentence And mend it with the lies of sunshine that you call your life.
0
May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 2:51 PM UTC
ugochukwu-charles-onyewuchi
EXU
Ever heard your voice take a trip mid sentence And start scrambling eggs, Ending sentences with verbs, Mixing Soy sauce with Bacardi And chasing the laughter down your throat with onions Cuckolding in the middle of the afternoon Where violet doesn’t recognize blue As a hue worthy enough to frolic with the afternoon dew, And then your brain smiles to your ****** And you choke on a giggle And wiggle an index finger just a little And remember black widows Were once angels who bought into self fulfilling prophecies Like wearing Armani suits barefoot And breathing through your skin Hoping life doesn’t die in your arms And leave a beautiful corpse With great stories suffocating inside And make the subpar ambitions of an unborn child jealous. Now ever heard a genius cry? ‘cause then you’ve heard an artist cry. Ever ate pork fried rice on a Sunday afternoon? ‘cause if you have you’ve heard the words of Leviticus cry. Ever read these written words? ‘cause if you have you’ve heard memories die And pains scream in alphabets of pleasure— The universal language of immaculate deception That sweeps through every tongue in involuntary pneumonia Like waltzing to the Amen’s of the devil With oxygen choking your nostrils And monoxide nodding your fingers to pull the trigger Of death dancing on the tomb of your destiny Like how a dose of metamorphosis And a 1mg of juxtaposition Is the repertoire of a king of curmudgeon. But ever heard a musical note?   Then you’ve heard the story of how joy lost the war of happiness to bitterness. Ever heard the sound of silence? Then you’ve heard the face of evil and the thoughts of serenity Joined at the hip of rock of Gibraltar, Nodding heads at the gospels of Gothic prophets Spewing sermons of a perfecter way to word the meaning of love. Ever heard a Mockingjay sing? Then you’ve heard the lullabies of suicide, Like falling from grace from the eyes of your one true love And landing on the plastic bag made of her silence Only to wake from the land of death and catch your voice breaking at mid sentence And mend it with the lies of sunshine that you call your life.
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48
Go out to the tarmac shove a pig into dirt Listen to the squeal make sure it hurt Hogtie'em smack'em on the *** into the van collect'em off the street and can them in the tan Ford Transit then we off to the chop shop The ****** butchers gonna cut some cop Drag them up feet first arms tied to the side Hang em up to dry over a reservoir for the gore Cut the cartery artery while they cry no more Whats it all for, whats it all for, a long pig cookout A hairless goat bled out now its time to get guts out Bleed slows to a drip time to take a head simply twist Off it comes like pop easy as a ******* croptop Get your blade nice and sharpish cuz next on the list Is skinning a cop shave off fuzz into the slop Then drag a knife from the plexus to the **** Tie off the **** and yank the excess its painless **** up and you can try again pick another off the herd Cut up again and again plenty of pork to slaughter Almost ready for the grill party just gotta get meat ready Detach arms, halve and quarter, keep your hands steady Time to get out the coriander and chili powder Hammer with a tenderizer on the counter Cuts of steaks without any guilt, all free range As I bite into a roast I make a toast to my rage That made this deranged cookout, pig liver on toast With some grits and cornbread as the feds approach Hundred cops'll will roll on the grillmaster Hundred shots out swiss cheesed by the ******** Read in the paper a monster cop killer Killed for fighting the terror with terror
0
Jun 24, 2020
Jun 24, 2020 at 11:12 PM UTC
DeafBard
Grill Party
Go out to the tarmac shove a pig into dirt Listen to the squeal make sure it hurt Hogtie'em smack'em on the *** into the van collect'em off the street and can them in the tan Ford Transit then we off to the chop shop The ****** butchers gonna cut some cop Drag them up feet first arms tied to the side Hang em up to dry over a reservoir for the gore Cut the cartery artery while they cry no more Whats it all for, whats it all for, a long pig cookout A hairless goat bled out now its time to get guts out Bleed slows to a drip time to take a head simply twist Off it comes like pop easy as a ******* croptop Get your blade nice and sharpish cuz next on the list Is skinning a cop shave off fuzz into the slop Then drag a knife from the plexus to the **** Tie off the **** and yank the excess its painless **** up and you can try again pick another off the herd Cut up again and again plenty of pork to slaughter Almost ready for the grill party just gotta get meat ready Detach arms, halve and quarter, keep your hands steady Time to get out the coriander and chili powder Hammer with a tenderizer on the counter Cuts of steaks without any guilt, all free range As I bite into a roast I make a toast to my rage That made this deranged cookout, pig liver on toast With some grits and cornbread as the feds approach Hundred cops'll will roll on the grillmaster Hundred shots out swiss cheesed by the ******** Read in the paper a monster cop killer Killed for fighting the terror with terror
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31
**I had dinner again at our favorite Japanese ramen restaurant I sat next to your fading presence and the lucky cat statue Had the usual ramen noodles, pork broth, spicy miso, and your favorite side dish Then got drunk off a pitcher, hot sake, and your absence A crowded room leafed over until I was the last one to leave I sat in my car out in the parking lot listening to your favorite acoustic song "I don't mind" Then clarity opened the passenger door sit and sat next to me I realized that night, during that moment That being alone wasn't too bad but I was still completely lost without you**
0
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 2:24 AM UTC
BaezJo
Ramen; Noodle Queen
**I had dinner again at our favorite Japanese ramen restaurant I sat next to your fading presence and the lucky cat statue Had the usual ramen noodles, pork broth, spicy miso, and your favorite side dish Then got drunk off a pitcher, hot sake, and your absence A crowded room leafed over until I was the last one to leave I sat in my car out in the parking lot listening to your favorite acoustic song "I don't mind" Then clarity opened the passenger door sit and sat next to me I realized that night, during that moment That being alone wasn't too bad but I was still completely lost without you**
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10
Scenario "Hey man where did you get this bud at"? "The guvnah" Marijuana is federally illegal. Marijuana is illegal in West Virginia. Unless you go to the local Dr Khan, and get a permission slip from the American Medical Association. $150 CASH ONLY Then take that permission slip to the West Virginia Department of Health and Human Services, who will give you another permission slip. $75 CASH ONLY Then you must take that there permission slip to the Government *** dealers. $$$$ You can purchase your Marijuana there $$$$ CASH ONLY No shirt, no shoes, no service! Please don't be afraid, the Government *** dealers don't ride Harleys, or have tattoos. These are clean decent people, with actual jobs. We don't even eat pork or smoke cigarettes...or believe in Jesus. Scenario 2 "Hey man where did you get this bud at"? "The guvnah" "I get it cheaper" Scenario 3 "Hey man where did you get this bud at"? "The guvnah" "I get it cheaper" "How much"? "$50" "You are under arrest for conspiracy to sell drugs"!
0
Jul 30, 2022
Jul 30, 2022 at 1:13 AM UTC
GaryL
This Really Could Happen Soon - Jesus Smokes Marijuana
Scenario "Hey man where did you get this bud at"? "The guvnah" Marijuana is federally illegal. Marijuana is illegal in West Virginia. Unless you go to the local Dr Khan, and get a permission slip from the American Medical Association. $150 CASH ONLY Then take that permission slip to the West Virginia Department of Health and Human Services, who will give you another permission slip. $75 CASH ONLY Then you must take that there permission slip to the Government *** dealers. $$$$ You can purchase your Marijuana there $$$$ CASH ONLY No shirt, no shoes, no service! Please don't be afraid, the Government *** dealers don't ride Harleys, or have tattoos. These are clean decent people, with actual jobs. We don't even eat pork or smoke cigarettes...or believe in Jesus. Scenario 2 "Hey man where did you get this bud at"? "The guvnah" "I get it cheaper" Scenario 3 "Hey man where did you get this bud at"? "The guvnah" "I get it cheaper" "How much"? "$50" "You are under arrest for conspiracy to sell drugs"!
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24
Mother superior had dropped the gun, Seeing the victim was her very own son. There a saint was made to run Drowned before the rising sun. Messiah born on the first day of June, Posing as a religious boon. Preaching that the end is soon, All in a tone resembling Sinatra’s croon. Superiority held in the form of prayer, Faith maintained at the behest of a dare. Professor Lodz has lost his bear. The Omega deemed this loss as fair. Tammuz is smoking all the vegetation Asherah has stopped all gestation, Coming from a fit of ************ Working on a new form of taxation. Jesus just took one huge dumb, In the sink after snorting a quick bump. The man had reached quite the slump. Catching HPV from Fergies’s **** Mohammad is eating all the pork. Using hands, forgetting the fork. ******* chicks, with all kinds of torque, Misinterpreting the path of a wayward stork. Dinning on delicious swine. And the finest forms of delicate wine. Prophets of the world align. And drink from the deceased Christopher Reeve’s spine.
0
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 9:53 AM UTC
charles-lutwidge-dodgson
Impeded By The Reasonable
Mother superior had dropped the gun, Seeing the victim was her very own son. There a saint was made to run Drowned before the rising sun. Messiah born on the first day of June, Posing as a religious boon. Preaching that the end is soon, All in a tone resembling Sinatra’s croon. Superiority held in the form of prayer, Faith maintained at the behest of a dare. Professor Lodz has lost his bear. The Omega deemed this loss as fair. Tammuz is smoking all the vegetation Asherah has stopped all gestation, Coming from a fit of ************ Working on a new form of taxation. Jesus just took one huge dumb, In the sink after snorting a quick bump. The man had reached quite the slump. Catching HPV from Fergies’s **** Mohammad is eating all the pork. Using hands, forgetting the fork. ******* chicks, with all kinds of torque, Misinterpreting the path of a wayward stork. Dinning on delicious swine. And the finest forms of delicate wine. Prophets of the world align. And drink from the deceased Christopher Reeve’s spine.
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28
We walk the smoke-thick winter street of sweet 'n' sour aromas amongst a throng of oriental shaded faces (such gentle souls) who crowd little pushcarts selling scallion pancakes. Overhead, red talismanic paper lanterns bob, enticing us to the tap of percussive chopsticks. We sit in awe; snack on duck-tongue; roast pigs hang glistening; fat-fresh, ready to fry. Waiters wheel trolleys piled high with steaming shrimp noodles past tables of golden oranges and watermelon seeds. Our Chinese chef prepares shredded pork in garlic sauce. He smiles and says: "More guests means more happiness."
0
Mar 19, 2010
Mar 19, 2010 at 6:35 AM UTC
caroline-grace
Eye Fest.
We walk the smoke-thick winter street of sweet 'n' sour aromas amongst a throng of oriental shaded faces (such gentle souls) who crowd little pushcarts selling scallion pancakes. Overhead, red talismanic paper lanterns bob, enticing us to the tap of percussive chopsticks. We sit in awe; snack on duck-tongue; roast pigs hang glistening; fat-fresh, ready to fry. Waiters wheel trolleys piled high with steaming shrimp noodles past tables of golden oranges and watermelon seeds. Our Chinese chef prepares shredded pork in garlic sauce. He smiles and says: "More guests means more happiness."
Continue reading...
12