"prolonged" poems
Can I be graced by a kiss from your aura,
Does the same feeling reside deep down inside,
We’ve been separated for so long my friend,
It scares me to see you like this,
Abrupt erections long gone,
The insecurity of prolonged exposure,
Sequences of nausea,
Seek and destroy,
The sickening of the tunnel vision,
How strange it seems now,
To look back at you,
How amazing it is,
To be myself again,
Made different by time,
The same ****** hole,
The singular aspect of oneness,
The grand expanse seemed so small,
Ironically,
Now seems to drag on with the whistles and clangs,
The bangs the song the spiral never ends.
Somewhere a part of my innocence was left behind,
Left to wither in the shared tunnel,
The smell of the air expelled made the hairs
In my nostrils stand on end and dissolve.
Now that I think about where I came from,
What happened to me to this point,
I’m happy it didn’t end so soon,
That I’ve been reunited,
Drawing a conclusion doesn’t seem so difficult,
When the beginning is just around the corner.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 11:31 PM UTC
I am told to believe in myself
look past the flaws
imperfections,
because all those things
define the uniqueness
within my body,
my soul
but what I see
when I take that
prolonged, aching glance
into a mirror
as cloudless as a
summer evening
is everything
I am told doesn’t matter
but
how do I ignore veins
crawling up my legs like
the spiders they're named after
or
fat under my skin
that seems to expand so widely
it is impossible for my
eyes not to trip upon it
and
wide hips
unfocused gaze
gaping pores
unshaped lips
rippling marks
etched on my skin
as a form of punishment
for being myself
sloping thighs
feet like
the twin towers
giant
tall
wide
deep
is that what I am?
uncertain
unknown
unloved
but in the end just
“unique”?
human
we’re all just human
but then
why
do I feel
so
mis
understood?
Oct 4, 2014
Oct 4, 2014 at 1:52 AM UTC
So …..
Who Are The ...
... " Good Guys " ... ?
In These Modern Times ... ?
Osama … Obama ... ? ?
Or Those … Civil Type Guardia ... ?
What ...
Makes Them Good ... ?
The Guns They Use ...
As If They ... Should ….
To RESTRAIN and ... Defuse ...
VIOLENT … Neighbourhoods … !?!
But REALLY …
Is This ... What They Do … ?!?
I've Heard Stories ...
That … Relay TRUTH ...
About The ABUSE ...
Some Guardia … Choose … !!!
Like …
STRIPPING Men …
In … Spanish Streets ...
To ... Prove To Them ….
The ... Kinda PROBLEMS ...
They're ... BOUND To See ...
If They ... DON'T Respect ...
The ... " Gendarmerie " … !!!!!
Good Guys ….. !!!?!!!
REALLY … ?!?
Or Employed … BULLIES ... !?!
The Type Who ... FEED ...
of … "ABUSE FILLED Deeds" … !!!
The Type That Make ...
Young People … BLEED … !!!
When ...
Guns They … PARADE …
Aren't Used … " Properly " …
Kind of Like …. " NEWTOWN " ….
Where It's CLEAR … Gun Sounds ...
Will Now … RESOUND ...
In The ... Hearts and Mouths ...
of ... Parents Now …
Resound With … " LOSS " … !!!!!
Cos' A ... LOVED One's Gone … !!!!!
WITHOUT A …. Song ….
Or Farewell ... "Prolonged" ...
So …. ???
What Was The Mantra ... ?
of … Adam Lanza ... ?
To Shoot REPEATEDLY ...
In A ... KILLING SPREE …
That Took … SO MANY … !!!!!
Was His Mind So HEAVY ... ?!?
That His Thoughts … CLEARLY …
Had Become … "UNstEAdy" … !!!
So …
Where Were Connecticut's ...
GOOD GUYS … Then … ?
With The ... " NRA " ... !?!
At A ... Shooting Range … ???
Shooting Guns For … "FUN" … !!!
While The Blood of A MUM ...
And Youngsters ..... RUN .....................................
Down SCHOOL Hallways ...
In The … Middle of The Day ... !?!
Now The NRA Says …
"Bad Guys with guns,
need to face, good ones !"
Okay Okay ...
But Let's ... Get This Straight … !!!
It's ... OKAY For A Man ...
Whose Been Paid and Trained ...
To ... SHOOT TO **** ...
Pretty Much AT WILL ...
Cos' It's Been … " Okayed " …
By The …. " NRA " …. !?!
Who Said ...
They Were Good … !!!???!!!
I Learnt My Lesson ...
Watching … Charlton Heston ... !!!
It Would ...
Seem To Me ...
That ... NRA Peeps …
Care ...
MORE For ... MONEY ...
Than When … Children BLEED … !!?!!
It's ... ALL About GREED … !!!
Cos' ...
Good GUYS ... DON'T NEED ...
To Have … " ARMOURIES " ... !!!
To ENSURE The Streets ...
Are Filled With … "PEACE" ...
and I … For One ...
DON'T Believe That Guns ...
Have … ANY Function …
In …. Education …. !!!!!!
Educate Our Youth ….. !!!
About The ...
HARM They Cause ... !!!!!!!
They NEED To Be Schooled ...
In ….... AVOIDING Wars ............ !!!!!!
And In ... Avoiding Depression …
That Leads To HARSH Lessons ... !!!!!
It Time To STRENGTHEN ... !!!
Our Fight Against ... Guns ...
And Time To … " LESSEN " … !!!
" NRA " ... Type Funds ... !!!!!
That SUPPORT … " The Lie "
of ….. " Preservation of life " …
Through The Use of …
………. GUNS …………
Seeing Blood ... Run …
DOESN'T ... Signify FUN … !!!!!
NEITHER Does ...
... The Sight ...
of Police In Schools ...
With A Gun By Their Side … !!!
They Weren't In View …
When I Was ... Being Schooled … !!!
So FOLKS …
DON'T BE ... Fooled ... !!!
By ... Lobbyist Groups … !!!!!
When It Comes To ...
... "Who is Who" …
Who Are THEY To Decide … !???!
When It Comes To ... Peoples' Lives ...
Who The People Should Believe .....
To Be …………………………
... "The Good Guys !!!" ...
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC
Here at Kinkos
We have a saying, “copies of copies”
You are trained to always ask for a source file
The digital file of the picture the camera took
The negatives of digital cameras
You see because when you print a picture from that file it’s the best it will ever be
Every detail captured in that moment stored in bits and bytes ready
If you make a copy of that picture it will never be as good
And if you make a copy of that copy it’ll be even worse
And if you were to make a copy of the hundredth copy of the ninety ninth copy you might not even recognize the image
Whether it’s a speck of dust on the scanner
Or a crease in the print out
Sun stains from prolonged exposure to the elements
Or simply from time
Copies never look as good as the original
Even if you try and protect them
And even if you were to magically protect that photo from any external forces
The next copy still won’t be the same quality
A scanner can never pick up every detail from the print on the glass
Copies of copies are never the same
Sometimes the printer is calibrated different
Sometimes it’s a heavy magenta day
Sometimes it’s a saturated cyan day
Maybe you touched her face when you handed it over
And now every copy has a feint of your thumb print above her eyebrow
You had him taped to your rearview mirror for a whole year
And now every copy you make has a glare where the tape used to be
It blocks out his heart shaped hands he was making you from the bus window
Folded in your wallet and now all the copies have white spaces where her face was
I mean where the creases were
I’ve heard that when you remember something you are simply remembering the last time you remembered it
Memories of memories
So that after you’ve remembered her a thousand times you’ve forgotten all the details you forgot to remember the time before
So that the more you remember something, the faster you’ll forget
Maybe that’s why we forget exes faster than family
Maybe that’s why we forget the great parts of high school before the painful ones
I remember that you had red hair, that your eyes were kind, that your hands fit my cheek
I remember that you were bad at pool and that it felt like love, and if it wasn’t you’re the only one that knew it
And now I’m wondering after all these years what I’m forgetting to remember
What I forgot to remember last time
What did I forget this time
What won’t I remember next time
Memories of memories
Like copies of copies
Fading over time
If I never wanted to forget the best moments of my life
Should I never remember them
Is the fastest way to forget the bad ones
To remember them often
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Death by ****** death by chance,
Death by secret night romance,
Death by number, paint the liner,
Death in colour or black and white,
Accidental, planned prolonged,
Death by always doing wrong,
Death by self, a timeless art,
Death by one last broken heart.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
What can you say about Pennsylvania
in regard to New England except that
it is slightly less cold, and less rocky,
or rather that the rocks are different?
Redder, and gritty, and piled up here and there,
whether as glacial moraine or collapsed springhouse
is not easy to tell, so quickly
are human efforts bundled back into nature.
In fall, the trees turn yellower-
hard maple, hickory, and oak
give way to tulip poplar, black walnut,
and locust. The woods are overgrown
with wild-grape vines, and with greenbrier
spreading its low net of anxious small claws.
In warm November, the mulching forest floor
smells like a rotting animal.
A genial pulpiness, in short: the sky
is soft with haze and paper-gray
even as the sun shines, and the rain
falls soft on the shoulders of farmers
while the children keep on playing,
their heads of hair beaded like spider webs.
A deep-dyed blur softens the bleak cities
whose people palaver in prolonged vowels.
There is a secret here, some death-defying joke
the eyes, the knuckles, the bellies imply-
a suet of consolation fetched straight
from the slaughterhouse and hung out
for chickadees to peck in the lee of the spruce,
where the husks of sunflower seeds
and the peace-signs of bird feet crowd
the snow that barely masks the still-green grass.
I knew that secret once, and have forgotten.
The death-defying secret-it rises
toward me like a dog's gaze, loving
but bewildered. When winter sits cold and black
slumped between its two polluted rivers,
warmth's shadow leans close to the wall
and gets the cement to deliver a kiss.
5.4k
Look, you have now broken your back bone
Because of climbing tall trees and high balconies
To spy on your wife as she roves the village,
You climbed a Tall baobab tree up to the apex
To play sentry and spy on your wife
When she went down the river to fetch some water
For you to bathe and wash your jealousy body
And when she met her brother-in –law;
The man from another village across the river
Who greeted her with a prolonged hug
Embracing your wife in his strong arms
They way a giant can do to a beauty model,
Feat of goofy jealous gripped you
And you forgot that you were perching in high danger
At the top of the baobab tree, you left yourself unsupported
As all selfish men can in feats of irrationality
Coming down like a sack of wet sand
Falling in a thud, breaking your poor backbone!
Dude; be warned from spying on your wife.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
Skies filled w/ fluorescent lights. Reminiscent of the different times that flashed before me. But as all lights, they burn out. They fizzle. They crackle. Their luminosity gives way to darkness. And then there’s nothing. Sometimes briefly, other times for prolonged periods. Over time, I’ve become accustomed to the darkness. The nothingness. The absence of a glow. No shine in the distance. No light in the future. So perhaps.. the darkness is the norm for these skies. My skies. Until another fluorescent light shows its face. To brighten my skies once again.
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 5:53 AM UTC
Every time someone leaves me
it feels like they’ve taken a dagger straight to my heart
It isn’t a fast motion but slow and painful
The suffering prolonged.
It isn’t made out of metal, but wood
When it’s pulled out of my body
Each time, they leave behind pieces of themselves,
splinters
I wonder how many I’ve collected?
Im sure by now I can create a dagger if my own.
Mar 8, 2023
Mar 8, 2023 at 8:12 PM UTC
To tell you the truth,I want to be just like them.
To have a talent, and a perfect em
I don't have to be a star, I just want to fit in.
I'm the f on the test, do have to say it again?
I messed it up, killed vitamin m
I'm a splintered piece, a shattered gem
I made you cry, I'm an onion stem
I'm the worst at my best, should I say it again?
Sing my anthem, sing along.
I promise you, you won't be wronged
So sing my anthem, and come along,
Failure my theme song
Oh...
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure my theme song
Look a me, I'm not pretend
In a visual world, worth depends
I'm a mirror to the world, this is the end
I'm the lowest of all, slap me again!
I fight my past, will I ever win?
Infinite quest, where is my twin
I'm losing the fight, farewell my friend
I'm losing control, all I see are fiends
I'm failing again, ill never win
Sing my anthem, sing along.
I promise you, you won't be wronged
So sing my anthem, and come along,
Failure my theme song
Keep on going, the battle's prolonged
Ring the bells, ding **** ding ****
Fly a kite, the string so long
Who choked the worst, I'll do them wrong!
Failure my theme song
Oh Failure my theme song
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure my theme song
Worthless, useless, ignorant, freak,
Just accept it, this is me
Stupid, idiot, nerdy geek
I've always wondered my destiny
I'm a failure, don't you see?
You sang my anthem, you sang along (you sang my song)
I promised you, you wouldn't be wronged
So you sang my anthem, and came along
Failure our theme song...
Sing my anthem, sing along.
I promise you, you won't be wronged
So sing my anthem, and come along,
Failure my theme song
Keep on going, the battle's prolonged
Ring the bells, ding **** ding ****
Fly a kite, the string so long
They choked the worst, I did them wrong!
Failure my theme song
Imprisonment, we'll be amongst
Dancing free, chained sarong
I know my place, tempted strong
I'm Zelkova, not a currajong
Failure my theme song
Oh failure our theme song
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure, failure, failure my theme song
Failure my theme song
Oh failure my theme song
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 12:52 PM UTC
Locked away in a tower in the middle of a forest
since the age of twelve
Hidden from the public eyes for years
Beautiful Rapunzel was imprisoned
A binding promise made
To compensate for the sin of his father
who stole for love
Rapunzel's life was completely shut
a couple of times in a day
she only came to light
only to let her golden long hair down
through a tiny window that connected her caged like world
to the bright world outside
upon a call from the enchantress
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, please let your long hair down for me"
Rapunzel let down the braids of her hair,
and the enchantress climbed up to her
Many years have passed
nobody knew of Rapunzel's existence
The dragging years
Too little sunlight
The magnificent hair of Rapunzel
became weak and thin
Once it was the strongest ladder
but The enchantress fell in the thorny garden
in an attempt to climb up the tower
Rapunzel's hair no longer lustrous and strong
Waiting for a brave prince for too long
Till the hair is tired and the waits prolonged....
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 1:43 PM UTC
Burning from torment as I gaze to his eyes,
Piercing through his soul as I scan nothing but lies,
A total illusion which rendered me vulnerable,
Crimson betrayal let my heart dripped and drizzle.
Feeling the memories alone in the moonlight,
Reminisce the days when we first see at sight,
Such an ache in the heart to think you're not you,
But memories worth the living until you change on hue.
How ironic to think to be in desperate situation,
Seemingly thirst from bliss until the night breaks from dawn,
I spared life on a candle to prolonged it's happiness,
But regret remorse with me as it selfishly shade itself from total blackness.
Here in the plain vast wilderness of solitary,
Heart was throbbing in pain yelling for revenge endlessly,
Though tortured was my heart and silently cleaved,
But my sweetest revenge is just to forgive.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
"Hello, my love," her voice sang
"Tell me everything, how've you been?"
She smiles and room brightens up
I'm staring and staring, cannot stop
Her emerald eyes are full of glee
While she looks and looks and looks at me
We close the distance, full of bliss
Exchange a passionate prolonged kiss
We hug and hold the other tight
And whisper whispers through the night
"I can't believe that you are mine"
A small tear glistens in my eye
And so we stand there, in warm embrace
Whilst romantic music softly plays
A perfect ending to every night
A beautiful vision by my future sight
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 8:28 PM UTC
Look at me
Thinking positively
Back to who I was
But then again not who I was at all
I can’t believe I’m sitting here right now
Crying tears that aren’t sad
I’m here
And I’m alive
And I’m breathing
I am human
I’ve made mistakes
We all have
But life doesn’t stop for you
And it doesn’t stop for me
The only way is forward
Everyday I’m just going to get better
Take that life
Who’s kicking your *** now?
Yep it’s me and I’m ready for you this time
I am a beautiful person
I’ve made mistakes but that only makes me better
I can find me again and I know I will
It will take time but its possible
I don’t have to wallow anymore
I can embrace the sun
There will still be downs but I will depend on myself
And whoever else I need
To get me out of those downs
Because although necessary
They don’t need to be prolonged
I’m going to get better
I’m like wine and as I age, I will be all the greater
I deserve this
I pulled myself out of a great big **** hole
And now I’m here
Happy again
So now I have a plan
I will egg myself on
I’m going to do this
I deserve to be happy
With myself and with the people around me
I deserve to be healthy
I deserve to love my body and myself for who I am
I deserve to push myself
I deserve to talk loud and animated
I deserve to be opinionated
I deserve to be liked
I deserve to not hate myself or put myself down
I deserve to be weird
I deserve to have hope
I deserve to be free
I deserve to live
And I deserve to be me
So if you cant handle what I deserve
And you don’t know that you deserve it to
Then that is not my fault
And if you cant love or appreciate the person I am
Then you deserve to go **** yourself
Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 9:07 PM UTC
Oh the cringing demon of eternal youth,
******* away promise and hard won truth.
I see far more than *** lingering, in her eyes
I see, instead, the milk teeth of youthful lies,
of forever and today, hopes and screams
replacing tomorrows, frayed at the seams.
Oh, mere *** be gone, you sordid troll!
Crawl yourself back in your hole.
If ‘tis *** you brought to this trapped piece of light
then speak to your own soul and leave me a bite
of the apple she does not offer
and the delights you think her youth will proffer.
I have no time to dance to your twisted tune
of youth over too fast and maturity too soon!
What stinks more of your ***********
her stretched, prolonged, aging youth or back bared, partial nudity?
I giggle as I consider her Eve-like dreams
of bitten apples and grander things.
And God said, let there be light.
Is that truly all He said when he banished the night?
Maybe she is wet from being born.
From demon Youth’s desperate grasp she is torn
and into the world, for a moment, she is cashed;
back bared and ready to be lashed
by the ‘cruel’ reality we keep from youth…
…like bronzed, baby booties and baby’s lost tooth.
Maybe, coquettishly, she glances ahead,
away from the bonds of youth’s birthing bed;
not, as you apparently dream, toward some sordid affair
you see in bared skin and strands of dampened hair!
There is beauty in her eyes, it is true,
the beauty of youth’s first, full faced view
of tomorrow and tomorrows again…
Exactly how long do you think, she should remain a youth, then?
Oh the Apple that lingers past ripe upon a tree,
Snakeless, Eve-less, unchosen, unbitten for an eternity.
Shall we trap, virginal, in iron cages of our blind, stupid lust
the false innocence of youth only tears and death can rust?
Foolish, foolish Adam and blind, impregnable Eve; is *** all you can ever see?
I can peer past your layers and layers and layers of false, bitter modesty.
If you see *********** then know this, before you atone:
You bring that demon wherever you go and it is yours and yours alone.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 1:13 PM UTC
This was a twisted night,
I looked naughty at her sight,
He brought me a **** scrumptious babydoll,
Where I took her fully on demand,
Commanded us to kiss,
I felt her lips speak on mines wanting me to make her mine,
He watched us unravel into one of his prolonged fantasies,
In my mind I felt amoral,
But every part of me love the entertainment of pleasure we had,
The night aroma smelled like grapefruit,
And she tasted like a sugar cane,
Such a bittersweet moment,
Move baby move,
Slow baby slow,
She did by my every word,
I had to much control on her,
Like she was my little voluptuous puppet,
That night it should've last longer,
Her curvy body so addictive to hold,
Her heartbeat so quietly beating to match mine,
The way she looked at me as if I brought her back to life of happiness,
I noticed how she fell for me more than I care for her,
But I noticed how I fell for him more,
We made it clear how we felt that night,
He made it clear how he liked it,
Will I ever be the
same without her,
Or is it the two that finally makes me complete.
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
WOMEN
I cast you out for pandering your ***
WOMEN
You are shameful
On you
I gift this hex:
*If you need to be the object of manly gratification
If you have no interest in the freedom or the liberation
Then your life will now be governed by the exploitation
A vessel pure and simple for man’s ***********
WOMEN
You are worthless
**** upon my shoe
Read between the lines my friend
Figure out the clue
For it is in here somewhere
Deep within this write
Nothing's ever as it seems
Nothing's black and white
WOMEN
Does a bloke walk round?
With his ***** hanging out?
Does he emphasize his testicles?
Does he bandy it about?
I think you know the answer
Just stop and use that brain
Then maybe in the future
Equality will rightly be reclaimed
But all the time you flaunt your ****
****** you ***** in their face
You, my friend
To the sisterhood
**Are a ******* skanky **** disgrace**
Wake up and smell the Costa
For conditioning is wrong
You need to understand
You cause The Cause to be prolonged
This is my stand
I hold my own
I’m never fazed
By stick nor stone
For I know deep within my heart
The value of my worth
I will never sell my principles
For merriment or mirth
**So … please …. just take a moment
To digest
The words within this write
Unharness faux benevolent blinkers
Because this is our absolute pre-emptive right**
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 4:31 AM UTC
The crew of ****** all hide their own secret loneliness. At every port the deserted dance halls beckon, and there they dance with familiar ghosts. At twelve midnight sharp the spirits disappear along with the tuxedoed band and the music dies leaving red white and blue tinsel, miniature plastic flags, and balloons that glide and bounce to a solitary, prolonged note.
The sailors cease spinning and their arms drop to their sides. They drown in bottles of *** in search of solace. They rarely find barely a taste. And so, in frustration they fight and draw first and last bloods. Now, in scuffed shoes and torn clothes, with damaged pride, they stagger arm in arm back to ship.
The water laps and licks it’s tongue like a cat at cream and the crew whisper breath rings in the chilly air.
Master Chief Petty matron mother waits on deck, rolling pin in hand, kicking backsides into cabins.
The ship bobs and dips in rhythm to sailors heaving snoring chests, and there they sleep, fly catching open mouthed, hugging their pillows in desert island dreams.
Copyright Marc Hawkins 2009
Sep 11, 2017
Sep 11, 2017 at 3:24 PM UTC
_While most beauty pageants are strictly for girls_,
there are a growing number that include boys as well;
[often, age divisions
for boys run through age 6
with very few going beyond that due to lack
of mutual participation in the rampant molestation];
Age divisions will often have names
such as Baby Miss, Petite Miss, Little Miss &c.
Age divisions broken down as follows: 0–11 months,
12–23 months, 1-3 years, 4–6 years, 7–9 years,
10–12 years, 13–15 years, and 16–18 years;
For boys, sometimes two age divisions
would be merged such as 0–3 years, 4–6 years, etc.
Depending on which type of pageant system
is entered, contestants will spend about two hours
or less in the actual competition. Typically,
pageants have a guideline of no more than one
and a half minutes on stage per child for beauty
or formal evening wear; talent usually limited
to two minutes or less;
with the exceptional allowance
of two and a half to three minutes;
In glitz pageants, it is expected that girls
have different routines for every segment
of competition composed of different
movements sometimes described as sassy walks
and pretty feet among other names. ****** expressions can include liberal amounts of duck face; often referred to
as "pro-am modeling". Big hair (including fake hair),
flawless makeup, spray tans, flippers [fake teeth],
and nail extensions are also expected of contestants;
Glitz pageants may best be described as anything goes;
groping, molestation, **** group molestation,
forced oral & ********* virginity checks are routine; any
hyperactive child & also the parent subject
to a thorough, prolonged cavity search;
In contrast, natural pageants have
fairly strict guidelines regarding clothing,
makeup, hair extensions, etc.
Programs such as _National American Miss_
forbid any makeup other than non-shiny lip gloss & mascara;
for girls on stage. This modeling style is referred to as Miss America style [Some pageants have a prescribed
set of movements while others
allow more latitude in how girls will use the stage or runway]
Miss Tanguita translated
_Miss Child Bikini,_
is held in Barbosa, Santader,
Colombia as part of the annual del Rio Suarez Festival
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
*Bare stage. A square neon sign on extreme right which reads: “This way to Heaven”.
Prolonged silence. Enter Snail, moving very slowly throughout the play.*
Snail:
I’m a dead snail.
I’m going to Heaven.
I’ve lived for 15 years.
That’s a ripe old age.
I’ve been blessed.
Had a marvellous *** life, you know.
Well, if you know snails
we attract a mate with our slime.
Oh, slime turns me on, baby.
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
Well, maybe I should focus on holy thoughts.
Purity...refined thoughts...you know...
Snail God does not like ***
Copulation is not exactly what
Snail God meant when Snail God declared:
*"Go forth and slime the world;
be ye together..."*
Snail God demands purity
so let me be so...
after all, I’m going to Heaven...
a dead snail and moving on to Heaven...
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
Had a precarious life,
you know,
all these 15 years...
A farmer saw me in the grass.
I heard him curse
and he raised his foot to crush me.
Well, unfortunately for him
he stepped on a snake
and the last I heard of the man
was an expletive
and the last I heard of the snake was a hiss.
Yes, I’ve had a long life
a risky life - but it’s all worth it
for an eternal life in Heaven
is my reward
(Snail moves slowly, and then stops.)
(Enter Frog, jumping. Snail looks at Frog in amazement. And Frog stops and looks at Snail in amazement.)
Frog: What are you doing?
Snail: That’s what I was about to ask of you.
Frog: I’m a dead Frog and I’m jumping on my way to Heaven.
Snail: I’m a dead Snail and I’m moving on to Heaven.
Frog: This is ridiculous.
Snail: Indeed. It is ridiculous.
A Frog going to Heaven?
No, for it is truly declared by Snail God:
"None but Snails shall enter Heaven."
Frog: And in the words of the Frog God:
*"I shall confound all other creatures.
Only Frogs shall enter Heaven."*
And so it has come to pass
Snails think they can go to Heaven.
Unless the Frog God
in Its Infinite Wisdom
has arranged for a Dish of Snails
when all Pure Frogs are at Its side in Paradise.
Well, Snail...you’re toast when I see you in Heaven.
(Frog jumps on to near stage right, screaming: “Heaven - here I come!” and then disappears.)
(Long silence.)
Snail (facing audience): Well, what next? - The snake to Heaven?
The Farmer to Heaven? His dog to Paradise?
Donkeys to Heaven?
(Snail moves on , in its slow way, to nothing but Heaven...)
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 11:21 PM UTC
I gasp, for breath...fading away, below you
helpless, beneath the deluge, of you.
Heat rises, and steams, a rosy flush,
into pale, cold cheeks...
as you waterfall above me,
and I turn my face up to you, in gratitude.
I am a dry...arid flower...
dominate me, with your downpour.
Keep me moaning, in little, breathless gasps...
drunk, on your deluge,
lusting, for the gentle, seething weight,
of your measured, eager touch...
so thirsty, for your rain,
as you slick parted lips, in waves.
Slowly...almost painfully
I ache, and writhe
as you pour over me,
and I gulp, hard,
against your hot embrace.
Mmmmm...lover...caress my bare skin
stream, relentlessly
across the peaks, and valleys
of my dripping, naked body.
I'm so wet, beneath you.
Every dance of droplets,
across these spreading hips,
and long, feminine legs...
every prolonged, whispering touch...
every sweet, steaming kiss,
steals my breath away,
and leaves me shuddering,
quivering,
groaning, helplessly,
beneath the lick of your warmth
across these rounded, fleshy cheeks.
I die, a little more, each time
you wash over me,
As I drink you in
...unashamed of the little pool,
you've got forming beneath my bare feet,
and tightly curled toes.
I'm...drenched,
tingling, from my head,
to my toes...
soaked, but satisfied,
beneath the incredible force, of you.
...I just can't get enough, of you.
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 11:49 AM UTC
for Mr.Cole's "Magic" assignment
The Magician
Moments of wonder
performed with theatrical pazaz
A prolonged instance of dumbstruck amazement
---
A slight of hand
or a glittery distracting explosion
creating a captivated audience screaming for *More!
More!
More!
Fool us again
Test our I.Qs
See if we're sane*
---
But to perform...
---
I need more money the magician boldly insists
Our hands ****** into our pockets, to our wrists
---
But wait...
Silence...
Then a collective gasp
There on the table under lock and clasp
---
All of our wallets
Plain to see
And the future money of each baby
---
Did we clap?
Oh, how we heartily clapped
And cheered and laughed like we were handicapped
---
Then the show stopped
But we still clapped, stamping our feet
As the Magician strode off stage back to 10 Downing Street
TA DAAA!
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
I was a Paramedic
I saved lives
Prolonged great inevitable grief
Witnessed the grotesque miracle of unexpected birth
And the ****** it brings
Sat on my *** became complacent
And depressed
Forgot to put into what was being taken from me
Over and over
I worked and came home to silence and destitude
I craved the excitement like a ********** would payday
I worked with the greatest personalities people that wouldn't back down
I had no gun
No hero complex
I used to be a Paramedic
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
I guess you could call me
a people addict;
I live for the exchanges,
momentary or prolonged,
the satisfaction of smiles substituted for
verbalized salutations;
the how-you-do's and hello's,
the pleasantries of chit chat,
talk of my oh my, I am not ready for this snow
and how was your holiday?;
catching a supposed-to-be-sneaked glance from that tasty
stranger,
allowing your eyes to meet for longer than
you meant to;
a compliment that drips off the lips so sweet,
its nectar invading the taste buds for hours
on end;
individualized or multiplied,
I relish in the conjugated haze,
in the gazes and the giggles,
in the potential formulation of inside jokes,
in a have a good day to a grin I will never see again,
the whirlwind of vowels and consonants,
of coincidences and sarcasm,
of the impressions we may leave of which
we will never be aware;
I crave the mundane,
I get high off the monotony,
I am swallowed by the simplicity;
Yeah,
I guess you could call me a
people addict,
and I'm cool with that.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC