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"pubes" poems
there's something vulnerable about your ***** babe - whenever I watch that pepper bush I become vulnerable and all I want to do is to finger the moist bases; there's something vulnerable about your buttocks: babe - whenever your warm arse's in my palm I become vulnerable and all I want to do is to dig into the honey vases;
0
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
Vulnerable
Naughty nun and your sinful games, You prey to my weakness with your Lustful games, you know all sins Of the flesh, wearing your cloth of Faith. Knowing I cant keep my hands Of a woman of the cloth so hot is faith. You get on your knees, and you pray Not for the above, but what hangs in Your face. Jesus she says  holy crap, You want that where it  my holy hole, No way you going back there as she Holds a cross. You don't want to pray to the meat, You just like it in your mouth, I lift Up your robe to find the smuttiest Under wear on, as you close my Mouth and push it to your awaiting Lips, your ***** shaved in the sign Of the cross. I may wear the cloth and believe in Up above but that doesn't hide what's Beneath a woman yearning for man Meat and lust, yes I have tasted a sister Or two tasted the fruits of there loom. But nothing compares to the sinful lust Of having a man inside me fulfilling my Womanly lust.
0
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 4:20 PM UTC
Naughty Nun
Oh cute little thing I like your contour you look pretty funny when you're cold you get these lovely wrinkles especially in the middle region nearly dendritic more like the cracks in the earth and your satchel breathes on its own like a brain if it had lungs for itself but more like an amoebic celestial body squirming around in some primordial goop I think that's pretty cool you're a pink and brown mushroom emerging from a forest of black wiry moss concentrated around you and all growing in your direction almost lifting you up and out and then further away fading the way the water gets clearer above a sand bar and then a great convergence a crashing of two great waves against each other forming a wall of spindly tendrils before the whirlpool
0
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
a poem about a wiener and some *****
Number 7 in the ORLOK series and one of the best O how I relish the taste of blood ****** out from the devastated jugular But there is more, much more When the victim is a nubile **** From a Transylvanian village Where ****** morality Is quite ******* thin on the ground; And that is how I met my fate. 'Twas on an October eve When I met plump Esmeralda And (having fed my fill from her neck as she slept in her hut under filthy rags stinking of stale ***** I sank my fangs into her naked belly Ripping into her bloated guts With my accustomed gusto; My tongue slurping its way Over her twitching **** And finally I descended joyously To her odorous spunk-encrusted ***** For the last rites, Before the final curtain To her worthless life of peasantry. But then, as my excitement mounted, And just as I was on the verge Of pumping out my vampiric ******* I felt an agonising, mind-blasting pain As a major stroke swept through me, Wrecking my synapses big time, Turning my brain into guacamole. And now I am a crippled ****** Just a spasticated old vampire In my second-hand rusting wheelchair, Courtesy of Romanian Social Services, Drooling helplessly Into my swollen pissy crotch, Waiting for another enema, My sole remaining pleasure And a stimulus to my jaded prostate. But, hurrah! hurrah! new hope arrives: A miracle occurs as I read of The new wonder pill from SuperDrug Available only in private practise And guaranteed to rejuvenate the jaded Or your money back, no worries. Orlok will fly again to pursue The pleasures of the flesh And especially the botty-zone.
0
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:24 PM UTC
The Terrible Doom of the Great COUNT ORLOK
Number 7 in the ORLOK series and one of the best O how I relish the taste of blood ****** out from the devastated jugular But there is more, much more When the victim is a nubile **** From a Transylvanian village Where ****** morality Is quite ******* thin on the ground; And that is how I met my fate. 'Twas on an October eve When I met plump Esmeralda And (having fed my fill from her neck as she slept in her hut under filthy rags stinking of stale ***** I sank my fangs into her naked belly Ripping into her bloated guts With my accustomed gusto; My tongue slurping its way Over her twitching **** And finally I descended joyously To her odorous spunk-encrusted ***** For the last rites, Before the final curtain To her worthless life of peasantry. But then, as my excitement mounted, And just as I was on the verge Of pumping out my vampiric ******* I felt an agonising, mind-blasting pain As a major stroke swept through me, Wrecking my synapses big time, Turning my brain into guacamole. And now I am a crippled ****** Just a spasticated old vampire In my second-hand rusting wheelchair, Courtesy of Romanian Social Services, Drooling helplessly Into my swollen pissy crotch, Waiting for another enema, My sole remaining pleasure And a stimulus to my jaded prostate. But, hurrah! hurrah! new hope arrives: A miracle occurs as I read of The new wonder pill from SuperDrug Available only in private practise And guaranteed to rejuvenate the jaded Or your money back, no worries. Orlok will fly again to pursue The pleasures of the flesh And especially the botty-zone.
Continue reading...
49
when you trim your ***** and your mustache with the same pair of scissors when you hand over your entire paycheck to the bartender of doom and glee when you write a bounced check at the grocery store when you sleep with a girl who isn’t clean when you’re young, lost, broken and poor when your childhood runs hard and your luck runs out when your best friend is dead and your other friend is ******* your girl when your dog sleeps in the afternoon and dreams of the neighborhood ***** when your nutrients gets replaced with Xanax bars over the one who just left when your tired eyes meet the brick & mortar of strenuous labor when the smile is so fake that it appears genuine when you go all in on someone you weren’t 100% sure of when you wait on bleeding knees for the unreliable god when you bet on the boxer that crashed to the canvas when the interest is high and the banks are closed and the creditors don’t care about grace periods when you understand very little and you expel a whole lot when the cord of anxiety strangles your very essence when you turn out to be just as everyone expected don’t worry it’ll all turn around and find you again someway somehow.
0
May 23, 2025
May 23, 2025 at 11:52 AM UTC
between the ages of eighteen and death
this is a poem about happiness. this is also a poem about how great life is, see? here's a metaphor comparing nature to the faultless form of a pedastalized lover, here's a description of the effect of changes in air pressure and localized temperature fluctuations on physical matter in a given area. here's a bland truism that anybody can relate to. here's a couple rhyming stanzas about the ethereal shifting of connecting threads which cause all life to dance upon the cosmic stage like food poisoned marionettes. here's an ode to the wrinkles of my ******** and the bits of fuzz that occasionally find their home in my ***** here's a sonette to the drop outs doing better than me here's a dirge for the businessman that hangs himself and a jubilee for his widow who earns nothing off his death because he left his entire estate to his catamite. I'm writing a symphony in color, notes of fermenting wood dogshit and coffin dust. the violas swoop and drone the piccolos trill fast enough to excise your gastrointestinal system the barotone sax wheezes and the timpani drum rumbles (the flutes sit motionless because **** flutes) the pianists fingers are bleeding hes banging with stumps now his face contorted in ecstatic glee as if the face of god has parted the clouds just to scrape his gums clean with his dietous **** and lo faint is the whisper which climbs and slithers between the false, bash upon life with both hands. here is life here is death let me show your life let me breathe your wretching like squandered like roots in the soil, paint your everlasting cave drawing in the face of your kitchen and dance around a fire let the embers lick your heels til pagan viciousness overtakes your quivering form. gasp it in
0
Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:47 AM UTC
don't mind baphomet
this is a poem about happiness. this is also a poem about how great life is, see? here's a metaphor comparing nature to the faultless form of a pedastalized lover, here's a description of the effect of changes in air pressure and localized temperature fluctuations on physical matter in a given area. here's a bland truism that anybody can relate to. here's a couple rhyming stanzas about the ethereal shifting of connecting threads which cause all life to dance upon the cosmic stage like food poisoned marionettes. here's an ode to the wrinkles of my ******** and the bits of fuzz that occasionally find their home in my ***** here's a sonette to the drop outs doing better than me here's a dirge for the businessman that hangs himself and a jubilee for his widow who earns nothing off his death because he left his entire estate to his catamite. I'm writing a symphony in color, notes of fermenting wood dogshit and coffin dust. the violas swoop and drone the piccolos trill fast enough to excise your gastrointestinal system the barotone sax wheezes and the timpani drum rumbles (the flutes sit motionless because **** flutes) the pianists fingers are bleeding hes banging with stumps now his face contorted in ecstatic glee as if the face of god has parted the clouds just to scrape his gums clean with his dietous **** and lo faint is the whisper which climbs and slithers between the false, bash upon life with both hands. here is life here is death let me show your life let me breathe your wretching like squandered like roots in the soil, paint your everlasting cave drawing in the face of your kitchen and dance around a fire let the embers lick your heels til pagan viciousness overtakes your quivering form. gasp it in
Continue reading...
61
.*as e ver... i didn't come to these isles to find a Saxon blond... i came here for the "ginger", the autumn beauty weaving in the hair... a shy blonde, a decomposing strawberry, a heap of hay... a fox... who needs a fetish for blonde, when you can be satiated by... red?! the Celtic blonde is known as red: ***** phoenix blonde! all red blood red... all that is: the color and the remaining milk of the skin, and that: chess-board of freckles!* abookutopia evil giggle / chuckle, perhaps both... what?!   ha ha! girls reviewing books? oh, now you have to be ******** me! what where's what? what's what? dream dragon dream...                        am i supposed to be the *** that says something?! **** i am.. i'm not... can the girls be anything else than red hair... i can't fathom red hair....      but... when she has lost her virginity... mm...            what? who said what?       sometimes? i become a freak...   *** addict:                hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! like eating doughnuts when it comes to oral *** and an ***   mumbling juggernaut... what?!    huh?!                      ginger.... hair... ginger hair...                    ginger ***** can't help it... the moon is most bright when it's full... what?!                  red hair... carrots... seven ways.... what?!                  milk skin, freckles, ginger...                  what?!       sun-soaked-orange...                   greased-auburn...                carrot-tail...                            ginger ***** i'm thinking of the right words...    hegemony of secrets...      ah!     mahogany of the collected palette of autumn! kneel...    ***** kneel... what the **** did i just say? oh right...    George III antics... as you do, watery, with the glass eyes escaping, or in vain attempt, ensuring a sanity with the encouraging madness of the said, times,                horn bred to find... the Celtic Blonde of ruby...    the superior breed of aesthetic.
0
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 12:41 AM UTC
book review girls
.*as e ver... i didn't come to these isles to find a Saxon blond... i came here for the "ginger", the autumn beauty weaving in the hair... a shy blonde, a decomposing strawberry, a heap of hay... a fox... who needs a fetish for blonde, when you can be satiated by... red?! the Celtic blonde is known as red: ***** phoenix blonde! all red blood red... all that is: the color and the remaining milk of the skin, and that: chess-board of freckles!* abookutopia evil giggle / chuckle, perhaps both... what?!   ha ha! girls reviewing books? oh, now you have to be ******** me! what where's what? what's what? dream dragon dream...                        am i supposed to be the *** that says something?! **** i am.. i'm not... can the girls be anything else than red hair... i can't fathom red hair....      but... when she has lost her virginity... mm...            what? who said what?       sometimes? i become a freak...   *** addict:                hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! like eating doughnuts when it comes to oral *** and an ***   mumbling juggernaut... what?!    huh?!                      ginger.... hair... ginger hair...                    ginger ***** can't help it... the moon is most bright when it's full... what?!                  red hair... carrots... seven ways.... what?!                  milk skin, freckles, ginger...                  what?!       sun-soaked-orange...                   greased-auburn...                carrot-tail...                            ginger ***** i'm thinking of the right words...    hegemony of secrets...      ah!     mahogany of the collected palette of autumn! kneel...    ***** kneel... what the **** did i just say? oh right...    George III antics... as you do, watery, with the glass eyes escaping, or in vain attempt, ensuring a sanity with the encouraging madness of the said, times,                horn bred to find... the Celtic Blonde of ruby...    the superior breed of aesthetic.
Continue reading...
71
this pit in my stomach lets me know that i am freaking the **** out. it feels good. insanity is running through the roots of my hair when i remembered today that you are probably shaving your ***** in preparation for Elisabeth I'm rooting for you, you disgusting weasel. i hope it's the best **** you will ever give anyone and i hope it means nothing to her
0
Dec 16, 2011
Dec 16, 2011 at 9:29 PM UTC
**** **** **** (noregrets
Soft, natural, symmetrical fine ***** **** body right down to your *****
0
Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 12:01 PM UTC
Recovered Fragments: Tampered Papyrus 73
so the *** debate is raging like a Californian wildfire in the forests, people are "presumed" missing... i'm sat watching back to the future (beats star wars, every, single time: the ****** is more obvious) and then drinking... i always wanted to taste a lobster... and listening to the best of billy joel... scratching my mustache... BELGIANS IN THE UK! then fiddling with my bead... my beard... i have a beard?!i **** i have a beard! i took, fiddling with my ***** the wrong way... after all ****** airs have the same feel as ***** hair... a bit like cleavage... so... you're donningv     the buttock crack up-front?! funny, eh? making fun of the phallus... how about feeding a Donnie Disney with your, puppies?! how about that? ***             if women do need no men... do what we do... **** off anal-style... we do the **** projective... you cut out utilizing the ****** look... 'appy bunnies" if ai am about to turn into a ***** the female right... all the rights you require... sure... have them... but what sort of right is it, when there's no existentialist argument? go on... please... make your dodo               and your mixed-raced argument... mono-racial is the new neanderthal... call it... we're not progressive enough... we're too ******** to mingle ethnicity... call it!        call me halfway house between down and the ****** call it!                        call it! ***** better call it!         (through gritting teeth): call it! i said... call it! be your progressive "self"... call it!          i'm ******** for not mingling adequately enough with crafting a trans-ethnicity populace... neanderthal...    *****                       call it! guess what... i love the laced take on history via the Anglophone re-reinterpretation of Darwinism... i love the neanderthal take on thiongs... i'm bilingual, schizophrenic, the sort of mongrel that... has no place among the duo-ethnicity... "mongrels"... lucky you, lucky me...   i'm sorry... the F extends just so far... two languages, orange man, bad... but a congregation of a dual ethnicity, green man, god, and "the" good...      whatever suits your favor... i should care, i won't care, i don't care, i will, to never ever give a **** about caring; like god "said": on your own;         i much prefer the freedoms of the jungle, than the restrictions of a zoo. it's billy joel, "by the way"... life will go on... obviously a life much ******** than the intelligent people are used to... but... if that's what you allow... then you're deserving it.
0
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 9:24 PM UTC
likened to the photographs of my exeses
so the *** debate is raging like a Californian wildfire in the forests, people are "presumed" missing... i'm sat watching back to the future (beats star wars, every, single time: the ****** is more obvious) and then drinking... i always wanted to taste a lobster... and listening to the best of billy joel... scratching my mustache... BELGIANS IN THE UK! then fiddling with my bead... my beard... i have a beard?!i **** i have a beard! i took, fiddling with my ***** the wrong way... after all ****** airs have the same feel as ***** hair... a bit like cleavage... so... you're donningv     the buttock crack up-front?! funny, eh? making fun of the phallus... how about feeding a Donnie Disney with your, puppies?! how about that? ***             if women do need no men... do what we do... **** off anal-style... we do the **** projective... you cut out utilizing the ****** look... 'appy bunnies" if ai am about to turn into a ***** the female right... all the rights you require... sure... have them... but what sort of right is it, when there's no existentialist argument? go on... please... make your dodo               and your mixed-raced argument... mono-racial is the new neanderthal... call it... we're not progressive enough... we're too ******** to mingle ethnicity... call it!        call me halfway house between down and the ****** call it!                        call it! ***** better call it!         (through gritting teeth): call it! i said... call it! be your progressive "self"... call it!          i'm ******** for not mingling adequately enough with crafting a trans-ethnicity populace... neanderthal...    *****                       call it! guess what... i love the laced take on history via the Anglophone re-reinterpretation of Darwinism... i love the neanderthal take on thiongs... i'm bilingual, schizophrenic, the sort of mongrel that... has no place among the duo-ethnicity... "mongrels"... lucky you, lucky me...   i'm sorry... the F extends just so far... two languages, orange man, bad... but a congregation of a dual ethnicity, green man, god, and "the" good...      whatever suits your favor... i should care, i won't care, i don't care, i will, to never ever give a **** about caring; like god "said": on your own;         i much prefer the freedoms of the jungle, than the restrictions of a zoo. it's billy joel, "by the way"... life will go on... obviously a life much ******** than the intelligent people are used to... but... if that's what you allow... then you're deserving it.
Continue reading...
116
"Fuuuuuck!" groaned the Tortoise. **** spat the Hare. "Son of a ***** barked the Fox. **** on a rooster!" cawed the Crow. ***** of a bison!" growled the Wolf. ***** of a llama!" brayed the *** **** on a termite!" squealed the Ant. **** of a cricket!" grated the Grasshopper. "THE HUMANS KNOW OUR STORIES!!" cried the animals in unison despair. "Yeeeees," hoot'd the Owl with an evil-wicked grin, "but only the ones with a moral."
0
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 8:04 AM UTC
Anti-fable
How I love the smell of your ***** As you straddle my eager open mouth My tongue licks at your mighty **** As your canines brush my engorged **** How I love the taste of your throbbing **** O the feel of your spotty **** in my hands! How my tonsils risk a ****** good bruising! And lo! my ***** get stuck between your teeth! Then your ***** gushes down my hungry cake-hole And my salty ***** juices run down your fat chin - But the best bit so far, is if we skilfully manage To let fly two foetid mutual simultaneous farts. But now, folks, we get to the really good bit The bit which we have both been waiting for: Out come our joint warm streams of diarrheoa Drenching our excited faces in noisome filth.
0
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 11:14 AM UTC
Soixante-Neuf Avec Un Twist
I’ll only say this once, and once a ******* lone. There’s a problem to address, and yes, there’s a reason for my tone. You’ve been prancing around me blissfully, and in a few seconds’ time, you’ll think of someplace else wishfully. Once I say. Just once. It’s certainly not fair when I’m the one removing the hair from that hole. I’m a sick ******* but I have no lust for disgust. After my mind is perused, I’m angry and confused. The possibility dawns on me that it could well be your ***** Or the gel ridden, straw-like hair on your head. That image fills me with a different kind of dread. With this in mind, I’ll be shuddering with repulsion, Trapped later in life with memories of physically indulging my hand your slimy Barnet. Believe me, that’s not normal hair, so don’t start telling me to calm it. Or no…perhaps… It’s sent my mind searing, it’s ever so weird to, for one moment, consider that you have the ability of growing a beard. You’re baby-faced, commonplace, and don’t have a thought worth hearing. You’re still a child, a mental ****** and to top it off, a beard is now appearing. Well that’s great. Another thing I have to deal with. Can you not take care of your own affairs? If I were you I’d encase all the little hairs in a purse of some kind, so you’ll always pay mind to the fact that you now look like a man despite being a **** Miraculous. I must say, I’m a fan. Well I guess now it doesn’t even matter, your face is bare and the bath tub is spattered. I’m shattered. This isn’t how I pictured my early years, wasting furious tears over beards. If only early on I had been told, that eventually I would end up staring in outrage daily at your beard in the plughole.
0
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 4:42 AM UTC
Your Beard in the Plughole
I’ll only say this once, and once a ******* lone. There’s a problem to address, and yes, there’s a reason for my tone. You’ve been prancing around me blissfully, and in a few seconds’ time, you’ll think of someplace else wishfully. Once I say. Just once. It’s certainly not fair when I’m the one removing the hair from that hole. I’m a sick ******* but I have no lust for disgust. After my mind is perused, I’m angry and confused. The possibility dawns on me that it could well be your ***** Or the gel ridden, straw-like hair on your head. That image fills me with a different kind of dread. With this in mind, I’ll be shuddering with repulsion, Trapped later in life with memories of physically indulging my hand your slimy Barnet. Believe me, that’s not normal hair, so don’t start telling me to calm it. Or no…perhaps… It’s sent my mind searing, it’s ever so weird to, for one moment, consider that you have the ability of growing a beard. You’re baby-faced, commonplace, and don’t have a thought worth hearing. You’re still a child, a mental ****** and to top it off, a beard is now appearing. Well that’s great. Another thing I have to deal with. Can you not take care of your own affairs? If I were you I’d encase all the little hairs in a purse of some kind, so you’ll always pay mind to the fact that you now look like a man despite being a **** Miraculous. I must say, I’m a fan. Well I guess now it doesn’t even matter, your face is bare and the bath tub is spattered. I’m shattered. This isn’t how I pictured my early years, wasting furious tears over beards. If only early on I had been told, that eventually I would end up staring in outrage daily at your beard in the plughole.
Continue reading...
30
What can I say I'm cheap, I couldn't afford a 69 so I went for the cheaper 59, 10% off. Ye off the end result. She was like tongue me deeper, and she blew me. Not like a vacuum hose, more like blowing a birthday candle out. I'm moaning, she's coming. Then a gust of wind in my face. What can I say, she called me cheap! And you get what you paid for, I don't know why but my ***** are singed..... To realistic for my liking that blow job.
0
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 1:52 PM UTC
The Cheap 59
1) It puts the peanut butter on its ***** 2) Finna meat sum ******* 3) Classical conditioner 4) Pavlov ain't russian in the bathroom 5) He would never steak his reputation upon his looks 6) He met his husband on meatgrindr 7) His creepy uncle 8) Pavlov rools dogs drool 9) He was tired of being confused with Sylvia Plath 10) He needed all the leverage he could get on Skinner
0
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
Why was Pavlov so well groomed?
.*well back in my days (2 years ago)... you could groove to Patti Smith sing her rock 'n' roll ****** and listen to American Head Charge cover the same song... you could actually listen to Die Krupps Nazis auf Speed... back in my day - you weren't deemed a 70 year old nostalgia steam-train... while still in your early 30s; good luck finding that Patti Smith track... might as well resort to róże europy: kości czerwone, kośsci czarne (european roses: red bones, black bones)... and to think the *** pistols got away with their shenanigans... 40 years prior; Patti Smith! come on! it's a great tune! or tuning... whichever.* racial slurs... so the suffix in schwarze-negger is a collective private property?! Dr. Dre can say it, as urban insult, and i'm reduced to a colonial past that isn't even mine?! can i say the names of countries like Nigh-ger-ia... or Nigh-ger?           can it just be an urban slur these days?    compared to spawn, yes, black panther ***** ***** on a lemon before ******* on ***           what's next: yo... walking *****       the **** well... if we're in the interracial Olympics, i once ****** a bony black girl with a Kama Sutra slim, tight, that it wouldn't require a 12" to penetrate a Ghanian lard yo-yo...                pulverized the soft pouch of flesh where my ***** originate from using her coccyx...    ****           even i didn't expect finding out the riff...    on joan jett & the blackhearts' song i hate myself for loving you...       i'm with the Ire on the topic of racial slurs...    instead of "offense"... we resort to head-butts...    like the two Posen bucks... running headlong into a bare canvas...             comment section? well... obviously i take off my Francis Bacon mask.
0
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
racial slurs and Patti Smith
.*well back in my days (2 years ago)... you could groove to Patti Smith sing her rock 'n' roll ****** and listen to American Head Charge cover the same song... you could actually listen to Die Krupps Nazis auf Speed... back in my day - you weren't deemed a 70 year old nostalgia steam-train... while still in your early 30s; good luck finding that Patti Smith track... might as well resort to róże europy: kości czerwone, kośsci czarne (european roses: red bones, black bones)... and to think the *** pistols got away with their shenanigans... 40 years prior; Patti Smith! come on! it's a great tune! or tuning... whichever.* racial slurs... so the suffix in schwarze-negger is a collective private property?! Dr. Dre can say it, as urban insult, and i'm reduced to a colonial past that isn't even mine?! can i say the names of countries like Nigh-ger-ia... or Nigh-ger?           can it just be an urban slur these days?    compared to spawn, yes, black panther ***** ***** on a lemon before ******* on ***           what's next: yo... walking *****       the **** well... if we're in the interracial Olympics, i once ****** a bony black girl with a Kama Sutra slim, tight, that it wouldn't require a 12" to penetrate a Ghanian lard yo-yo...                pulverized the soft pouch of flesh where my ***** originate from using her coccyx...    ****           even i didn't expect finding out the riff...    on joan jett & the blackhearts' song i hate myself for loving you...       i'm with the Ire on the topic of racial slurs...    instead of "offense"... we resort to head-butts...    like the two Posen bucks... running headlong into a bare canvas...             comment section? well... obviously i take off my Francis Bacon mask.
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46
one man on the windowsill imitating monkeys ooh ooh ah ah went far with the onomatopoeias of tarzan able to sift through onomatopoeia into syllables into letters... and it took about the same time it took the dinosaurs to be extinct.... ooh ooh ah ah... ha ha... god give this monkey the fur and that man the nobel prize.... i'm guessing both will claim to be swedish: ooh ooh pooh ah ah! english society doesn't like philosophy, it doesn't like questions, it just like facts; smell my armpits for a digression, smell my armpits for a who'd do it, who'd ever don it, maybe a breezy mullet fringe for the ***** for the whiff-up we call a gel-up; ooh ooh ah ah lifting of weights to exercise the triceps.
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 10:08 PM UTC
monk key's brain weaving carousel
i meddled in egypt a third time, and all i said was... a. you ancestors will say the same thing i said, but unlike me your ancestors will say it unto you, directly; b. never meddle in the affairs of female genitalia of poetics of the burning bush / ***** c. you were given judaism, christianity, islam... instead you settled for mongol; d. begin to believe that riyadh is further east than expected, as is the warsaw pact closer to the west than the right blink of the eye of john paul ii, FOR, I, WOULD, REMAIN, ENTICED, BY, A, HOMELAND, I, RATHER, THAN, TAKE, OFFERS, OF, A, SAXON, TO, EMIGRATE, I’D, DRENCH, MY, HOMELAND, IN, BLOODED, NILE, TO, SEE, THE, WAKE, OF, MY, THOUGHT, ELSEWHERE, OTHER, THAN, THERE... HAR COO! JANISSARY OF VIENNA, signed the he of whom read the book above all other books, who wrote against the book poetry, who wept, who liberated the eye from the mind and endeared it with a heart, of the slave kept captive in solemnity for the once thought of encryption of the eunuchs, of those who read but dared not speak, who thus was made the claimant of the title: the bridge over the waters of Bosporus... that kindled the turkmen with the ottoman and the mamluk sheiks. indeed what pretty cauliflower for a daffodil in hymn... but lessened beauty if one should come untamed and hooded in footstep of being recognised - then the merchant’s (muhammad’s) price would be less than that of an antique dealer.
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Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 7:56 PM UTC
of egypt
jobless, broke, and single it's raining a shower of weak but smelly frowns inside is no less dreary I step away, to find myself in dim, arid, lonely space where am I to go? who am I to see? what am I to do? I light a light, unknowingly, I only found some seconds later that entertains my eye He burns slowly and casually which is why I look, and others don't my chest hairs rise and softly tickle my neck my leg hairs flare through my jeans my ***** uncrust some subway breeze whispers in my wet ear for this light wields great, secret power "it will be our little secret" I tell him and just as I told the light He flashed a Beautiful Blue just for me, just for Us my feelings changed, but the world didn't my liver and my thighs spoke to each other, and so did my pelvis he speaks (the light)! what a surprise! not words like these written but melodic moans I heard from my inside I want to touch you, my light! I want to give u gifts, just as you have to me I want your innards to change as well but how does a human compare to a handsome light? that at any moment can flash off it's so easy to fall in love but who cares, "live for the moment," right? this ******* moment! ***** my life in the **** then turns it around to **** slap my life in the face however, the moment's veiny ******** is merciful giving me time to catch my breathe as he face ***** me he holds my head steady, spitting on my nose my throat is being pounded i'm gasping for air, the air released from the moans of that moment he speeds, i grasp his **** and feel him clench! and clench! as he erupts down my esophagus flashes of *** and sweat and tears and twitches and my little light is gone
0
Mar 14, 2010
Mar 14, 2010 at 9:26 PM UTC
light&moment
jobless, broke, and single it's raining a shower of weak but smelly frowns inside is no less dreary I step away, to find myself in dim, arid, lonely space where am I to go? who am I to see? what am I to do? I light a light, unknowingly, I only found some seconds later that entertains my eye He burns slowly and casually which is why I look, and others don't my chest hairs rise and softly tickle my neck my leg hairs flare through my jeans my ***** uncrust some subway breeze whispers in my wet ear for this light wields great, secret power "it will be our little secret" I tell him and just as I told the light He flashed a Beautiful Blue just for me, just for Us my feelings changed, but the world didn't my liver and my thighs spoke to each other, and so did my pelvis he speaks (the light)! what a surprise! not words like these written but melodic moans I heard from my inside I want to touch you, my light! I want to give u gifts, just as you have to me I want your innards to change as well but how does a human compare to a handsome light? that at any moment can flash off it's so easy to fall in love but who cares, "live for the moment," right? this ******* moment! ***** my life in the **** then turns it around to **** slap my life in the face however, the moment's veiny ******** is merciful giving me time to catch my breathe as he face ***** me he holds my head steady, spitting on my nose my throat is being pounded i'm gasping for air, the air released from the moans of that moment he speeds, i grasp his **** and feel him clench! and clench! as he erupts down my esophagus flashes of *** and sweat and tears and twitches and my little light is gone
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I have a tiny **** Like a crooked little finger Everybody else's **** Is inevitably bigger If six inch as an average Can truly be believed Someone here in this room Must be twice the size of me If you can do your algebra Already you will know Four inches is the maximum My **** will ever go For the engineers among you I'll express my ratio My little one inch wonder Up to four times it can grow I'm glad to hear you laugh It shows you understand These are such the shortcomings of A very short **** man My ***** they can grow longer Into a comfy little nest With a little acorn sat Upon the very crest Rummage in my fly and Wish that I were blessed Searching frantically I recover just the head Get a little **** drip Up on my finger tip There's absolutely nothing there For me to get a grip If I sit to *** I must Be wary of my jet The angle of my dangle means My trousers may get wet Then dribble on my ball bag For my **** does not overhang These are such the shortcomings of A very short **** man I **** it with one finger If you really want to know And no I can't imagine The feeling of deep throat When I look down I can Still clearly see my toes But my little ***** hides Beneath my belly folds Sometimes it is inverted Even when it isn't cold Like a little turtle Inside of me it goes Girls they like to tell me It is a cute surprise Until I have to tell them I Left the ****** stuck inside I'm hung like Micky Mouse You've just got to understand These are such the shortcomings of A very short **** man Now why would I admit to this? By now you know it's true I'm such a little babydick Exposed in front of you But the greater pain exists In propagating myths According to the internet Real men have massive ***** So for anyone who feels small Let me reassure you all By bringing down the average With my little four inch ***** So if you're sat with five or six Feel the relief And if you really want to, Then have a laugh at me You no longer have to hide it Give a **** or give a **** You no longer have to let it Be the measure of the man And I guess I kinda like it When I am being teased These are such the shortcomings of A short **** man like me
0
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 8:47 AM UTC
Shorty
I have a tiny **** Like a crooked little finger Everybody else's **** Is inevitably bigger If six inch as an average Can truly be believed Someone here in this room Must be twice the size of me If you can do your algebra Already you will know Four inches is the maximum My **** will ever go For the engineers among you I'll express my ratio My little one inch wonder Up to four times it can grow I'm glad to hear you laugh It shows you understand These are such the shortcomings of A very short **** man My ***** they can grow longer Into a comfy little nest With a little acorn sat Upon the very crest Rummage in my fly and Wish that I were blessed Searching frantically I recover just the head Get a little **** drip Up on my finger tip There's absolutely nothing there For me to get a grip If I sit to *** I must Be wary of my jet The angle of my dangle means My trousers may get wet Then dribble on my ball bag For my **** does not overhang These are such the shortcomings of A very short **** man I **** it with one finger If you really want to know And no I can't imagine The feeling of deep throat When I look down I can Still clearly see my toes But my little ***** hides Beneath my belly folds Sometimes it is inverted Even when it isn't cold Like a little turtle Inside of me it goes Girls they like to tell me It is a cute surprise Until I have to tell them I Left the ****** stuck inside I'm hung like Micky Mouse You've just got to understand These are such the shortcomings of A very short **** man Now why would I admit to this? By now you know it's true I'm such a little babydick Exposed in front of you But the greater pain exists In propagating myths According to the internet Real men have massive ***** So for anyone who feels small Let me reassure you all By bringing down the average With my little four inch ***** So if you're sat with five or six Feel the relief And if you really want to, Then have a laugh at me You no longer have to hide it Give a **** or give a **** You no longer have to let it Be the measure of the man And I guess I kinda like it When I am being teased These are such the shortcomings of A short **** man like me
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