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"racoon" poems
Relating the incompatible Reconciling irreconcilable Forgetting the indelible Walking the liquid ground. Turning the dark on at noon Being an octopus in the body of a racoon Melting the stone, stoning the melted No utterance commented. How does it feel to be unreal? You may not like me when I disagree But teach me how to like me While I'm Relating the incompatible Reconciling irreconcilable Forgetting the indelible Walking the liquid ground. Turning the dark on at noon Being an octopus in the body of a racoon Melting the stone, stoning the melted I'll romance the unloveable Place my shoulder under the unbearable The pose we take in an argument Sustainable measurement.
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Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC
Unreal
Summer struck with the fist of Chicxulub, incinerated spring in a blinding flash. Abruptly the pond on Chehalis Trail was topped with water lilies, where famished families of water fowl had festooned the serenity of the surface; now vanished for cool Canadian climes. Racoon eyes peered in night shade green, Foxglove and California Poppy brushed through blades of overgrown grasses. Crow song battled with Stellar's Jay, the morning's true American Idols. I stirred from slumber to impatient cawing, chiding --- The best of day's awaiting. I was off to savor summer's sugar, lest autumn slip in unannounced on the coats of Quetzalcoatl.
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Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
Toltec Solstice
Never get to close at the zoo A hippopotamus can step on your shoe You could get bit by a rabid racoon Become lunch for a lion or get pooed on by a loon the zebras are crazy they'll eat your baby well humming a tune They’ll make a dessert out of your lady And eat her with a spoon YES! You can die when you visit the zoo So............. Here’s my advice to you, Scr3w the hippo, the lion, and the loon. Stay far away from the dangers that lurk inside of the zoo
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Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 11:00 PM UTC
At the zoo
Queen of angels make my day, queen of angels take my pain away, together let the love and life flourish, startle,twinkle and charm the chalice, imagine, create,fulfill the dreams, queen of angels make them believe, let them dream and let them live, queen of angels show the light, pass the dark and the ugly night, faith is upon you dont leave so soon, queen of angels calm as a moon, soft and silky like a racoon.
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 10:52 AM UTC
Queen Of Angels
She, Thick eyeliner'd eyes Racoon-rung, fingers slunk around The overused pencil, smudged on her hand And yet, it's not how she feels More, how she wants to feel. Oh, such a scarred star In a sea of dulling graphite.
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Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 10:08 PM UTC
*****
Dear Prudence, Julia, Michelle, Mr. Moonlight, Eleanor Rigby, Dizzy Miss Lizzy, Lady Madonna, Lovely Rita, Rocky Racoon, Lucille, **** Sadie, Clarabella, Her Majesty, Nowhere Man, Penny Lane, Carol, Long Tall Sally, Maggie Mae, Johnny B. Goode, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, Moonlight Boy, Martha My Dear, You Like Me Too Much. It’s All Too Much. I’m So Tired. The Night Before Yesterday Memphis, Tennessee, I Saw Her Standing There. Polythene Pam. Not A Second Time She Said She Said “Hey Bulldog. I Want To Hold Your Hand. Why Don’t We Do It In The Road. Here, There and Everywhere. Something.” I Want To Tell You I Should Have Known Better. “Wait. Slow Down. I Just Don’t Understand. Tell Me Why.” “Because I’m Down. I’m Happy Just To Dance With You. Hold Me Tight” “I’ll Be On My Way” “Please Please Me” “Get Back. Help!” And I Love Her All My Loving, Mean Mr. Mustard P.S I Love You
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:58 AM UTC
The Word From Me To You, From Us To You
bunny blue is a baby rabbit that lost her mom to a hunters habit she now has befriended a squirrel named frankie thats often happy but sometimes cranky they hang around and like to play till the night comes and ends the day at first light there back outside laughing playing and being sly they are the closest two friends can be have a look and you will see one day bunny blue came out and frankie was nowhere about she looked around all day long her very good friend was nowhere to be found the news it came from her friend the racoon frankie got hit yesterday afternoon bunny blue could not stop crying certainly her friend the **** was lying now she sees the truth so sad she hopped to the street and it was bad a smile on his face his eyes shut tight there frankie was in the middle of the street there in his mouth was a bright orange carrot he got it for blue and couldn't wait to share it bunny blue stopped crying a moment she said a prayer and wanted to show it blue took the carrot from her good friend kissed him goodbye and said i love you frankie i will see you again in heaven my friend
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Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 3:50 AM UTC
bunny blue
a sorry fist forward                                                                          and mortally i follow                           coldly into the first dark flint of day                                                           not my natural habitat                                                       so quiet.. or near so a vacancy for occasional clean                                                                          isolated noises  i pause         and pass a scan about the hailing lack of conscious population                                                                            all packed away hauntings themselves in beds - like some form of post apocalyptic storage - they add a vague lended charge   nature is on a limited budget         this early                              no birds yet                                   and no solar minting a massive racoon      with only three legs      crosses my intended path               in its mouth                    a gory wreckage                         i steep to make balance                          but my pores won't take it                                                        i am sickened by the ballast                                                                                            of my breakfast i hollow onward into these new conditions                             still deriding what to be                                                          a tourist and an informer dud                                                        i have switched to the dayshift                                         from off the spire                                   of my regular hour                   the evening routine breathing is surprisingly ***** at this time                                             a failing of settled pollution :                       the public buildings and restaurants                                            are muggy in their overnight stale degassing awaiting air currents and dispersal         the first gulls of the morning                                                                         emit a defeating siren spearing through detritus                                                             they dispel the bells of purity                                                   somehow i've made my port of call a struggling invertebrate in this state i dispose my spirit                                                         at the salted threshold security staff and sanitation process                                        between the sets of automatic doors a workplace made alien              and adverse to me purely by                     the indecent hour of day
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Apr 14, 2022
Apr 14, 2022 at 9:53 AM UTC
work schedule change
a sorry fist forward                                                                          and mortally i follow                           coldly into the first dark flint of day                                                           not my natural habitat                                                       so quiet.. or near so a vacancy for occasional clean                                                                          isolated noises  i pause         and pass a scan about the hailing lack of conscious population                                                                            all packed away hauntings themselves in beds - like some form of post apocalyptic storage - they add a vague lended charge   nature is on a limited budget         this early                              no birds yet                                   and no solar minting a massive racoon      with only three legs      crosses my intended path               in its mouth                    a gory wreckage                         i steep to make balance                          but my pores won't take it                                                        i am sickened by the ballast                                                                                            of my breakfast i hollow onward into these new conditions                             still deriding what to be                                                          a tourist and an informer dud                                                        i have switched to the dayshift                                         from off the spire                                   of my regular hour                   the evening routine breathing is surprisingly ***** at this time                                             a failing of settled pollution :                       the public buildings and restaurants                                            are muggy in their overnight stale degassing awaiting air currents and dispersal         the first gulls of the morning                                                                         emit a defeating siren spearing through detritus                                                             they dispel the bells of purity                                                   somehow i've made my port of call a struggling invertebrate in this state i dispose my spirit                                                         at the salted threshold security staff and sanitation process                                        between the sets of automatic doors a workplace made alien              and adverse to me purely by                     the indecent hour of day
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48
I must have something to joke about. Like being a swampy mermaid. I'd **** to be a sexless myth, hermit in the wetlands, combing my hair with the delicate ribcage of a racoon. Still, every now and then the boyfriend/bear would come find me and **** off onto my tail. What wild certainty in that -
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Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 3:44 PM UTC
Untitled
skirting the rusty rose of a brooch dangling on canvas bodice as she leans tightly over me; the waves of wrinkles on her be-bangled red hands pointing to the wrong punctuation; this is dream-building in the fifth grade; don't end the dream too soon, she gruffs sing-song like a prize-winning racoon; and still applauds the bricklaying we so clumsily feign for our castles in the sky; tho she, too, dies of cancer in the last year; the tubes at the very last weaving through the canvas; something of a final stitch to the making of a dream; and so i think all dreams in me they die in darkness and still i wonder what happens to the crenellated castle walls i abandoned scores of years and many As ago; and still we pat our doeeyes on their infinitile heads and **** our cynical shacks-by-the-forest-fires back into our heads, begging beneath the damp light of early-onset reverie: save us, won't you, from the stiff stillborn of dreams our generation lost to the fantasy of getting what the saddest, dreamless dollared dupes decree; oh be better yet for me, my naive sums, and take your brick-laying; your canvas sheen; your impossible, doubtless dreams with broach and gnarl; with gruff and soundless trill; your soulful self metastasized   with every beat to the happy grave.
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Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
Reflecting on an old report card
Beatle Bomb I should have known better, but if I fell, can you tell me why? I'm happy just to dance with you, anytime at all, you can't do that, if you love me do, I want to hold your hand, and your bird can sing too, said you was a taxman, it was a hard days night, you can drive my car, but you wont see me, I'm looking through you, but you're nowhere man, had a ticket to ride, eight days a week, it was only yesterday, when I met the day tripper, we can work it out, with the paperback writer, we called Eleanor Rigby and Penny Lane, and now it's getting better, with a little help from my friends, You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo” I say “Goodbye”, You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo” I say “Goodbye”, I was living in a glass onion with Dear Prudence, I said help! Lady Maddona, won't you just let it be, Martha my dear, took her Blackbird and Piggies while Rocky Racoon and Bungalow Bill found something to **** Julia and **** Sadie had honey pie for their birthday while there was a revolution back in the U.S.S.R it was helter skelter but everybody's got something to hide but I'm getting better, fixing a hole, using Maxwell's silver hammer and mean Mr Mustard was chasing Polythene Pam so she came in through the bathroom window guess it is time to just Let it be You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo” I say “Goodbye”, You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo” I say “Goodbye”, Gomer LePoet...
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Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
Beatle Bomb (a tribute to the Fab 4- r)
Beatle Bomb I should have known better, but if I fell, can you tell me why? I'm happy just to dance with you, anytime at all, you can't do that, if you love me do, I want to hold your hand, and your bird can sing too, said you was a taxman, it was a hard days night, you can drive my car, but you wont see me, I'm looking through you, but you're nowhere man, had a ticket to ride, eight days a week, it was only yesterday, when I met the day tripper, we can work it out, with the paperback writer, we called Eleanor Rigby and Penny Lane, and now it's getting better, with a little help from my friends, You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo” I say “Goodbye”, You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo” I say “Goodbye”, I was living in a glass onion with Dear Prudence, I said help! Lady Maddona, won't you just let it be, Martha my dear, took her Blackbird and Piggies while Rocky Racoon and Bungalow Bill found something to **** Julia and **** Sadie had honey pie for their birthday while there was a revolution back in the U.S.S.R it was helter skelter but everybody's got something to hide but I'm getting better, fixing a hole, using Maxwell's silver hammer and mean Mr Mustard was chasing Polythene Pam so she came in through the bathroom window guess it is time to just Let it be You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo” I say “Goodbye”, You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo” I say “Goodbye”, Gomer LePoet...
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33
it was christmas in the forest the animals were there a racoon and a rabbit and great big bear they gathered all together to have some christmas fun in the snow so deep beneath the winter sun they built a great big snowman  very big and white with a pipe and hat and a scarf so very bright then they made some snowballs to have a snowball fight playing in the snow gave them such delight they were very happy that christmas time was here it gave them so much fun and lots of christmas cheer
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Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
forest christmas
A vampire of nothing, an open bible of paperback. A man with identity theft. A panda racing a racoon. North, south,east,west. A chemical steal of stealth stars to you none the vampire slays, a cup of blood on top of a counter top, and the steepest dark awaits.
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 2:26 AM UTC
Some sort of book.
Here comes this serial killer looking creep Thinking he's here for just a little peep He just a little whacked out manic Energy spurts come in an inconsistent panic But I promise I'm an all right dude Even though I act a little rude, but crude I'm the leader who takes apart machines Been my own man since I was fourteen He's the maniac creator Makes all the world his theater In his head lives every world Swirling around in a surrealist twirl He's a trash picking racoon Looking like a tin foil hat loon Now here I go making another promise I'm a monstrosity Frankenstein colossus I build dreams out of your waste Assembling beauty with a fever pitch haste Don't ever doubt what I say Even if it sounds preposterous and risque I make some of the weirdest things Meant to illicit grins from my deepest sins
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Mar 27, 2022
Mar 27, 2022 at 9:01 PM UTC
Bad rap
Down by highway twonintyfive a racoon lay breathless on the canyon side survived probably by a family of four or three who knows, sticks and stones life as it goes. Down by the river Providence bound a drunken man falls down from the bridge to the ground homicide suicide noone will know, sticks an stones life as it goes. Cranston town a white pickup two fat men come to steal your stuff and break into your private home thinking they're the underpants knomes! Days are short that's all I know, sticks and stones life as it goes.
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Jul 2, 2010
Jul 2, 2010 at 7:36 AM UTC
Life As It Goes
Tonight in yoga While we take corpse pose And are supposed to empty our bodies and minds The teacher says: Listen to the tide of your breath I think of the beach The color of mist And the time I found a Dead sea otter As long as myself And still beautiful When I open my eyes the walls Are saffron And the ceiling is burnt orange I think of the monks In the art museum Who swept their hands Through a sand medallion And then released the remains Into a lake with lilly pads And when I look out the screen door I see a racoon, climbing down After plundering eggs And I think of the cabin Where the racoons would eat The dog food at night And my brother and I In footed pajamas Would hold flashlights and watch them And as we close shavasana And sit up I realize I am the least empty The least dead The most beautiful corpse
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Apr 14, 2010
Apr 14, 2010 at 6:38 PM UTC
Instead of Corpse
You took everything and returned to the scene To take home some images of victory and I knew too late what happend Staring right into your eyes as the realization ended All I could do was try to look anew Attempting not to bleed right through While I splashed about in shallow waters I'll just have to learn how to go without The shame in this game will never max out and you left me there weeping Sold me cutthroat trout I ate it up Gluttonously Then spit out the bones of the person I used to be She's so far from me I ode to the quicksand beneath my feet To the weasle who found a way into my keep The racoon who robbed me so blind and left me defiled morales Now left behind and strung about I graced him like a loser should I fought but much too late I understood
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Mar 15, 2013
Mar 15, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
The Damage is Done
Ah Dorothy Lost in the Land of Oz Looking for your way home All alone But this time You can’t just close your eyes And click your heels and say There’s no place like home And find yourself there But your friends are glad you are here The scarecrow and the lion Looking for brains And the courage to roar They say there’s a wizard In that Emerald City But what if it’s not up to him But up to us To connect To find wisdom And to be brave? But I like this journey so far And this lion for one Promises to protect you From all those flying monkeys With those big Racoon eyes
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Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 5:28 PM UTC
In Oz
I woke up in the morning, My cat was reading Twain, I tugged his tail so hard, It yanked his little brain. My Father walks down the stairs yelling "revolution on the rise." And I know he really meant it, I could see it in his eyes. I said: "whoa whoa pops what's up with you? You're actin' slightly mad," He said: "well son, here we go I'll tell whats got me sad. Yesterday the mail came and I saw a ***** word, It said, taxes are coming soon, You'd better hire a new nerd. So I walked down to the town hall with this witchcraft in my fist, they said well sir you gotta wait in line, and then marked me on a blacklist. So I got on a bus back home, for to find a new kazoo, and then an animal walked on and said 'son wanna hold my shoe?' I said no way man you got a filthy disease, You look like a racoon and you smell like rotten cheese. Then It said hold me to sooth me ease the pain of life And I guess I did, next thing I knew it was the end of Saturday night. I said oh no my taxes are due I gotta find a nerd, I saw one eating spaghetti with the cat and a purple bird. I walked over stylishly and then in one swoop I stole the nerd, then I kissed the cat, broke my back and ate that little bird. Yes I loaded up my harpoon, with a fistful of grapes, And I got ready to fire for to make my great escape. I shoot them at my enemies, and let them pop in their face, Then mama came, took my 'poon and put me in my place. Yelling: 'Oh Joy, Oh Joy I found my car, now lets go take the bus', I said Lets go my dear, Its time for us to float like living dust. Then the Medicine man Comes in with a skull on his cane. Then he Hits mama so hard she began to go insane. It was just then we got home so I left her on the bus, Next time I'll just take the train, at least its color ain't like pus."
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Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 10:05 PM UTC
Taxes
I woke up in the morning, My cat was reading Twain, I tugged his tail so hard, It yanked his little brain. My Father walks down the stairs yelling "revolution on the rise." And I know he really meant it, I could see it in his eyes. I said: "whoa whoa pops what's up with you? You're actin' slightly mad," He said: "well son, here we go I'll tell whats got me sad. Yesterday the mail came and I saw a ***** word, It said, taxes are coming soon, You'd better hire a new nerd. So I walked down to the town hall with this witchcraft in my fist, they said well sir you gotta wait in line, and then marked me on a blacklist. So I got on a bus back home, for to find a new kazoo, and then an animal walked on and said 'son wanna hold my shoe?' I said no way man you got a filthy disease, You look like a racoon and you smell like rotten cheese. Then It said hold me to sooth me ease the pain of life And I guess I did, next thing I knew it was the end of Saturday night. I said oh no my taxes are due I gotta find a nerd, I saw one eating spaghetti with the cat and a purple bird. I walked over stylishly and then in one swoop I stole the nerd, then I kissed the cat, broke my back and ate that little bird. Yes I loaded up my harpoon, with a fistful of grapes, And I got ready to fire for to make my great escape. I shoot them at my enemies, and let them pop in their face, Then mama came, took my 'poon and put me in my place. Yelling: 'Oh Joy, Oh Joy I found my car, now lets go take the bus', I said Lets go my dear, Its time for us to float like living dust. Then the Medicine man Comes in with a skull on his cane. Then he Hits mama so hard she began to go insane. It was just then we got home so I left her on the bus, Next time I'll just take the train, at least its color ain't like pus."
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30
Last night, I saw rows of men Sat circling around you Innocent and harmless victims Lack of wisdom, blinded by fake persona Exchanging ideas? I guess not, You keep feeding them lies Brainwashed them Way beyond anything I can comprehend I don't have time to engange in repeated version same game anyway Used to call you my mentor. But many little birds opened my eyes You're only a poser Pretends to be outwardly postive I remember, one time you said "Who are you? You're nothing compared to me. Don't you know who I am?" Agony, messed me up But I wiped my tear-stained cheeks Oh boy, I knew it from the entire island You are a… Sneaky manipulator Convincing predator Self-interested individual Drown in superiority dellusion Sympathy collector Thoughts saboteur Sweet nothing Wolf Racoon in sheep’s clothing A wolf would be overly good Smelly rotten soul Well-oiled word From a poisonous tounge True self always revealed Once you get closer to them Others might not know & fell for your fake persona I sit and wonder why he does it Regardless of the reason Clearly you aren’t ashamed You're nothing but a Disgushting racoon in sheep’s clothing.
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May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 1:31 AM UTC
Racoon In Sheep’s Clothing
Bring me back to Holding hands in the rain I want to see the drops Running down your face Hiding the tear tracks Baby don't you see? You're it for me. So just Bring me back to Holding hands in the rain Let me show you this world Through prisms and rainbows Jumping through puddles and Singing. Bring me back to Holding hands in the rain So I can tuck your hair back From your gaze, Smile while you laugh At my racoon face So won't you just Bring me back to Holding hands in the rain
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Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 9:37 PM UTC
Bring Me Back
It's like trying to see lightning. I sat long enough this Tuesday twilight, brave enough watching the twilight sky, brave enough to forgoe a glance to the right to make sure a racoon hadn't stumbled upon me, and it and I, startled, would scrap, resulting with my hand bitten - embarrassing cowardice. Brave enough I watched and the lightning climbed a height! It etched itself round the top of the thunderhead that towered above and above other domes that I assumed were the height, but higher even, the lightning climbed, and I wondered if it knew I watched, cause it took its time- not a blink, but a scrawl up the round height of the dome at a height that I dared not know existed. Could not be more unremarkable, me, on the stoop, on a Tuesday twilight, but the height, and the height, and the lightning will be there, good- good as my mother's skin under her thin, summer top, good as the first girl fervent enough to undress with me, good as my wife inviting me to come through all the boredom and distress, good as the end, when I'll know the lightning sees me, cause I'll see the lightning.
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Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 11:46 PM UTC
Because I Don't Think We Should Dread Tomorrow