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"rabidly" poems
**** that little willy'd ****** *** lick'n; Skid mark sitt'n Horror written; Square to circle fitt'n Kid in frame lifted; Menapose acting Habit of rabidly crashing into walls of madness; Precision in his crack-head tactics; Sky's backdrop to average; Newspaper wrapped is this devil's package; He's a mask filled with gas from a bean eating flaccid fascist; Disrespectful **** sack; A testament to where God's blessing had left his breath; And bitten lip was given; Heaven's sin times seven; Building this living devil hell hole; Logic of Kelso; Autistic clap of the elbows; Destined for death row; Festering hatred, New York to Sacramento; Hitler's stencil by broke'n pencil; Bigger ***** then Elmo; Range of insanity; With driver in hand, You tee up family; Frantically filling fantasy of being calamity personified as Anthony Majority holder in depressions percentage; Son of a Prada wearing father; Regarded by all as Caustic; Temper Atomic; Reasoning Neurotic Monotonic **** You
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Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 4:53 PM UTC
Angry Flow
Breathe. Breathe deep, and in between those breaths bring back banished beliefs buried beneath beyond broken bonds and burnt bliss. Embers. Embers everywhere of emotions expecting Elysium’s elusive embrace. Roses. Roses scattering restlessly; rarely receiving reprieve; reminiscing; ruing reproachful ravens resting rigidly; rabidly reaping, rending rotten remains, resenting rainfall refusing remorse. Nostalgia. Nostalgia underneath neon nightlights; noticing nubs, noises, nuances; neither neglecting nameless nonbelievers, nor nurturing narrow-sighted naiveté. Asleep. Asleep amidst fleeting azaleas acknowledging an abandon amplifying already almighty affection; almost altering ancient, ardent, adamant air as an ageless art. Loss. Loss overpowering; lost love, lingering longing, lasting laments. Lachrymose lovers left layers of a limited life within long-forgotten lore; lest labeled Loveless; left little longer living. Yearning. Yearning for the warmth of home. Yesterday, You were yelling ‘YES’ at the top of your lungs, and it was enough. Yet Yggdrasil yielded yew for years and years; young, yellow yeggs yanked asunder Yin from Yang into the ever yonder. Night-time. Night-time symphonies nullify nothingness; nourishing Nyx Nightmother’s need of newfound night-thinkers; napping nonchalantly now, near, and nevermore. ~D.C.
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Jun 17, 2015
Jun 17, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
My play on 'Imagery'
America the land of obesity and greed Mean and morally bankrupt in the face of world poverty Ever ready to eagerly attack a foreign country Rednecked and rabidly racist Ignorant and parochial to a sickening degree Canada's ugly southern neighbour Arrogant and self-opinionated Narrow-minded and bigoted to the Nth degree A total ******* disgrace really.
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Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
As American As Apple Pie
It seethes and it cries This animal contained inside Gnawing so rabidly at raw, scathing wounds Howling so desparatley to the unattainable full moon Snarling, screaming-- dying, dreaming The beast snarles from out its cage Clawing away its tears of rage Hidden fragments of a feeble human mind Buried in the morals left so far behind Condemned to fury, a degenerate of its race Manifested into the form of a calm human face
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Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 5:48 PM UTC
Animalistic
my nostrils spit fire sandpapered passageway from boiling lungs cracked and ragged, bursting rivers to dust bowls try to keep breathing, dragon woman. so naive, how I believed collecting miles upon miles of rusted road signs and concrete structures between us would wash your face from my mind as if I had not already seared your eyes into the sky of my daydreams even now, you stare into me I gnaw bloodstained lips, scratch fevered fingertips on tweaking knees and you, you are rabidly foaming in my memory how does an addict quit cold turkey and not remit? I ***** your name to strangers any chance I get just to feel it crawl out my mouth and tumble through my ears back into the creases of my mind pupils ****** open, I can hallucinate your breathing in my lungs bartering oxygen for ghostly touch werewolf mistress haggard howling at a new moon leave me to commune with absence, to laugh in the face of doom
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Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
crushed up
a stopping sort of started ending newing knewing sort of ended stopped and beganed sort of yesing sort of wooing newing       sortofandalso                                   alsok         i          nd of stopped starting begunning like well gee the summer was a nasal laughing roughness kind of sort of.             i'd like to kind of   or else to maybe                                               with autumn who was distinctly haired         in rich arresting dead                that kind of starting stopping started                                                                                     or well i'd like to think      it,swellwhynotanywaybecause noone never didn't atall even in the big gabled church of dawn that strung the sky with gelatinous heaving fibers all rabidly gesticulating puffy sansfinger hands grimaced on the slender naked blue and black and bursting sort of kind of because sinewed fluffy hammers on because wrists because                                                when you get all ***** in the mucky sterile daughters little pink little rose bud climbing open little rose bud up open big blooming like pink little sort of big sort of small sort of rose bud         you kind ofwell you clean kind of your you you clean kind of clean it straight razor cleaning your you           you cleaned with her big sharp little ******* all sharp and little and big under her shirts under her skirts kind of sort of because                             that,s                             wher                              e                             she keeps it she                             keepsitin there                                                                                                                        summer: she was unfreezing fresh squeezed lemon wedges sugar hilltops sweaty laughing nightmares in the big in the pale in the cordial surly pillow thick skinny heaps of gobbled luscious hot raining balmy slow quaking deaths every day i stood on that hill and i looked out over the city and she was really well gee sort of because.... . . . .               .                ,       ;       '                "
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Mar 13, 2011
Mar 13, 2011 at 4:00 AM UTC
a stopping sort of started ending
a stopping sort of started ending newing knewing sort of ended stopped and beganed sort of yesing sort of wooing newing       sortofandalso                                   alsok         i          nd of stopped starting begunning like well gee the summer was a nasal laughing roughness kind of sort of.             i'd like to kind of   or else to maybe                                               with autumn who was distinctly haired         in rich arresting dead                that kind of starting stopping started                                                                                     or well i'd like to think      it,swellwhynotanywaybecause noone never didn't atall even in the big gabled church of dawn that strung the sky with gelatinous heaving fibers all rabidly gesticulating puffy sansfinger hands grimaced on the slender naked blue and black and bursting sort of kind of because sinewed fluffy hammers on because wrists because                                                when you get all ***** in the mucky sterile daughters little pink little rose bud climbing open little rose bud up open big blooming like pink little sort of big sort of small sort of rose bud         you kind ofwell you clean kind of your you you clean kind of clean it straight razor cleaning your you           you cleaned with her big sharp little ******* all sharp and little and big under her shirts under her skirts kind of sort of because                             that,s                             wher                              e                             she keeps it she                             keepsitin there                                                                                                                        summer: she was unfreezing fresh squeezed lemon wedges sugar hilltops sweaty laughing nightmares in the big in the pale in the cordial surly pillow thick skinny heaps of gobbled luscious hot raining balmy slow quaking deaths every day i stood on that hill and i looked out over the city and she was really well gee sort of because.... . . . .               .                ,       ;       '                "
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When the crime is right       & the devil wet              the nocturnal forrest is a skin                      and ceremony thin dreams broach reason             they poach me with a caustic blooded rash approaching as nippy darts  ; visions of shard and coil a metallic eggy rot                            and pan to the darkness                                                      snapping electric         irregular from that darkness spaces between the trees comb                       form a hyper hectic wealth of flushes a blush burst discharges in the body            booming pulse           blooming rabidly salivating to a ******* savagery a nature to express        forecast              within permeable forrest i have energy amazed limbs              daring a dance                        screamin' hole The Frenzy              dog-shaking the head legs flung and planted crushing ferns              this hefty simian sway                       a broadcast challenge              invitation            a power coward commanding a matching of kinds                        excitation        no longer to be foetal and cowed              an aching unmend amended a call is placed the spell is rendered                                       - resonate
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May 10, 2021
May 10, 2021 at 9:11 PM UTC
Perforate
When the crime is right       & the devil wet              the nocturnal forrest is a skin                      and ceremony thin dreams broach reason             they poach me with a caustic blooded rash approaching as nippy darts  ; visions of shard and coil a metallic eggy rot                            and pan to the darkness                                                      snapping electric         irregular from that darkness spaces between the trees comb                       form a hyper hectic wealth of flushes a blush burst discharges in the body            booming pulse           blooming rabidly salivating to a ******* savagery a nature to express        forecast              within permeable forrest i have energy amazed limbs              daring a dance                        screamin' hole The Frenzy              dog-shaking the head legs flung and planted crushing ferns              this hefty simian sway                       a broadcast challenge              invitation            a power coward commanding a matching of kinds                        excitation        no longer to be foetal and cowed              an aching unmend amended a call is placed the spell is rendered                                       - resonate
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sleepless embraces silent defacing our wilted ends and tenderness. privately crying, quiet, applying blush on putrescence. murmurring, murmurring 'you are mine.' pining, dying, hushing lust. rabidly dabbling in fragile fantasies,   huffing tar stuff borrowed from tomorrow! shush. please. these feeble obscenities eat me to sleep: you wear me down like a river but i don't get smoother i just get thinner
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Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 9:35 PM UTC
thinner
it gnaws on my brain rabidly, with its razor-like teeth what is it? i don't know all i know is that it makes my breath catch in my throat as if it's being held there by taloned claws, my heart beating as though it's being used as a drum and this...this thing haunts my dreams it causes nightmares of losing everyone i love it also takes my will to live and smashes it between its palms, so that my mind is whirling but is void of the ability or motivation to take action what is this creature? how can i defeat it? surely this is not a part of me but it seems like no matter how much ice i press to my skin no matter how much control i have no matter what medication i'm on, it returns and in returning, steals my mind
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Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 2:00 AM UTC
it
I feel that old twinge of bitterness creeping up again from the shadows. I almost don't recognize the pattering footsteps of the old fiend. never the less, the hair on the back of my neck stands up and my eyes glaze over. Next thing you know I'm foaming at the mouth speaking gibberish in-between nips at your ankles. Ah! the familiar pang of imaginary injustices, piling up and filing in to rows of sentences without pauses. Oh what a wonderful feeling is that of the raw ball of hate caught in the throat! Venom drips from the fangs hidden in nonchalant inquisitions. Tread carefully for I lay in brush of amber straws waiting for the perfect time to lunge. Needless to say, I did not seek out the dog that teethed upon me. Nevertheless, I've become unforgiving and rabid.
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Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 6:37 PM UTC
Rabidly Irate
when all the bells have toppled silence and on the breeze rides a summer of stammering stunnery the likes of the color blue on stilts snagged in the sun’s corona. like a fish on a hook of sunshine, thought he saw a worm of real life but got caught in the vaporous torrent of his weakness. savoring the dawn like a mushroom mottled in fresh dew twinkling in the circus of  fecundity where the thrum of glory spoils the view of a curmudgeon and marches on into destiny’s ***** in the clutches of our habits and rabidly living the dream that’s killing us. how real can it get? and is that real enough?
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 1:23 AM UTC
The Enigma And The Rube
i miss you with an urgency that demands attention during even the most mundane of daily activities. you are among the leafy greens in the grocery store and between the cracks in the pavement you waft from my morning coffee and carry the one in my checkbook i miss you in a way that permits me to only express my guts in tired cliches and saccharine ballads from a decade before i was born. you are in affected vocalists crooning and far less temperate than a summer's day sometimes i ponder embarrassingly earnestly what you'd think about This Specific Cloud i miss you so intensely that i seize each moment because i can't fathom more than one day between seeing you next. i'm sorry you bleed through in latin when i'm disgusted and pathetic but maybe you are the imprint of where another universe bumped against mine i come to you shedding dignity and pretense to tell you i miss you ardently, vehemently, rabidly. please keep me.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 10:47 AM UTC
in absentia
I have witnessed mankind pulped by weight Gleefully stepping under it, believing those Neat, powdered men rabidly licking Drunk on blended bodies in glass tumblers Addictive increasing unquenchable thirst One sip is the end of the world Yet the world exists for its very creation First the ******** begins, and then vomiting Now it pours out of every orifice of the body Half-digested ****** juice, beautifully flowing Over spongy bodies and perfect nails Ending only to train the fornicating masses To crush themselves and each other
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
Untitled
Paradise shines through the eyes in the lines of the young men who are old men, the daily grind men,the five to five men who wait silently for the stores to close and go rabidly through what they chose to throw away. Don't tell me dead men do not smell, they stink to high heaven steeped in hell. At this riptide by the wayside where frightened rabbits hide, where the living died and the dead reside there's the feeling that the politicians lied, they're not Romans come to conquer us,they're the vagabonds and detritus,the throw away of which they glean each day becoming cannibal,it's a carnival but there's no clowns. and we laugh at them while looking down on them,not seeing through them to the young men who are old men, when did dreams expire? when did we become the higher echelon? It could be you there,would you then care and who would give a **** for the fallen man? when the open can is the bible and the ten pound wrap is the new age trap who'll be liable and when you hit the street conversing with concrete they'll think you're mental. Sometimes I've been in the lines and I've seen paradise,seen it shine in the moonlight when the 'hit's' hit me right, lived and died,stunk as well and to me paradise is just the same as hell.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
More broken
a stranger to me         - medically - you disassemble me :         i'm clasped kindly to the spot with a hectic burst of flushing warmth          my vision smudges          my ears stopper          my fingertips swell away their prints smooth          and my tongue becomes          a stunned obstacle of brawn a blood blush has discharged          and thorough throughout my system          you resound ;          a booming pulse blooming rabidly          salivating to the tune          of a detained ******* savagery a nature to express how sick you unmake me my nasal passages clear your mere radiating visit            has left me merry-go-maddened with pep
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Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 9:35 AM UTC
radiator [see 'Perforate' & '...thread...']
We track the oblique, sly fireflies that keep popping fitfully by. While life swarms invitingly by the side we remain rabidly hustling recklessly trailing those brusque cracking stars ...shifty, deceptive, volatile in onyx-bronze, raven nights ❋ We: the tenderfoot novice bulldozed on many a graceless trip half-cocked, peripheral, ****** and profoundly ill with pitiful short-sight. Afterwards, we will dolefully miss our unlived days and stay vainly entrenched in unskillful, effete ways to discard stiff hangovers and to naively refill famished days-before-today with crackpot mirth and being oddly spry. ❋ Like an enduring remorse, life trickles aside bequeathing wounds that refuse to cicatrize. and now towards this passing eventide there is no volte-face no dice.
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Jan 2, 2020
Jan 2, 2020 at 9:53 PM UTC
No Dice
leaves flutter down blanket the ground without a sound leaves all around betwixt the trees with low fruits ripe a phantom looms snares with a pipe to and fro the spirit glides and comes inside two lights collide speaks with a voice for eternity an insatiable mouth speaking rabidly though a spectre with a snare it has a heart with fibre there we digress with dancing feet where fear dissolves and twin hearts meet an ochre shadow blankets me i fall asleep in an amber glow and wake up with my body in throe
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
Piper
The essence of wit is brevity which interestingly evinces chivalry delivered verdict to hex **** size (once and for all) president dons mantle of deviltry and trumps constitutional credo defining American elementary particular edicts denoting, enshrining, framing, grand honorable inalienable rights when foolhardy lobbyists prevail evicting execrable“enemy” i.e. forward thinking (progressively liberal) which subsequently might help timid citizens to invoke probate, procure, produce cojones in opposition against rabidly power hungry, misogynistic courting among the body politik fostering future feverish fortuity, toward risking life and limb sans Uncle Sam selfless gratuity (especially as Benjamin Button syndrome – reverses aging process acquired thru heredity gets in full swing) stamping mindset nonestablishmentarian identity with my Kosher blessing despite any infamy permission to go ahead with jocularity from a superstar coach named Kennedy thereby garnering homespun liberty where icon bank on direct laudable, linkedin longevity with unrolled Scottish grandeur (Pomp and Circumstance broadcast) synchronized with precise unrolled welcome mat yule receive granted “FAKE” feted soiree as curtain call doth close toward final decade of mortality yet dismiss bing hash-tagged a scofflaw at any opportunity especially if legislated mandate earmarked as priority in tandem with the key quality apothegm stipulates decrease sing sanity as the hands of father time spin (Doktor Dude Little) backward away from present day turbidity increasing revanchism uber victory.
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
Light Lettered Laughter
The essence of wit is brevity which interestingly evinces chivalry delivered verdict to hex **** size (once and for all) president dons mantle of deviltry and trumps constitutional credo defining American elementary particular edicts denoting, enshrining, framing, grand honorable inalienable rights when foolhardy lobbyists prevail evicting execrable“enemy” i.e. forward thinking (progressively liberal) which subsequently might help timid citizens to invoke probate, procure, produce cojones in opposition against rabidly power hungry, misogynistic courting among the body politik fostering future feverish fortuity, toward risking life and limb sans Uncle Sam selfless gratuity (especially as Benjamin Button syndrome – reverses aging process acquired thru heredity gets in full swing) stamping mindset nonestablishmentarian identity with my Kosher blessing despite any infamy permission to go ahead with jocularity from a superstar coach named Kennedy thereby garnering homespun liberty where icon bank on direct laudable, linkedin longevity with unrolled Scottish grandeur (Pomp and Circumstance broadcast) synchronized with precise unrolled welcome mat yule receive granted “FAKE” feted soiree as curtain call doth close toward final decade of mortality yet dismiss bing hash-tagged a scofflaw at any opportunity especially if legislated mandate earmarked as priority in tandem with the key quality apothegm stipulates decrease sing sanity as the hands of father time spin (Doktor Dude Little) backward away from present day turbidity increasing revanchism uber victory.
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