"salivate" poems
My lips have always craved the taste of danger.
Maybe it is because I don't know what's good for me
or I'm in love with the high I get from it
The high that takes me to the heavens,
surpassing the pillow-like clouds
resting against the azure canvas
I remember the taste so vividly,
I salivate at the thought of it
It's sweet like candy,
the sugary goodness
rushing inside my veins
delicately coating my tongue
bites between my teeth
explode into a thousand little pieces,
dancing inside my mouth
Your succulent lips pressed against mine,
remind me of the taste of summer strawberries,
juicy and tender with citrusy undertones
we're kissing like there's no tomorrow
Oh how I feel your lips part from mine, then touch
and part again the way the clouds greet the sky
Before a rainy afternoon
How can something so bad taste this good?
Oh I'm convinced your kisses are a drug
Nice to play with, but toxic to the mind
Kissing you must be equivalent to intoxication
shockwaves through my body,
the paralyzing euphoria
I don't think I could ever give you up
This addiction is taking control
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
she loved thunder storms most of all
the crackle of white hot bolts ripping through the sky
the sheer immensity of power
she always thought it was him
her beloved God
big boy
Thor
with his flowing blond hair
blue aquatic eyes
washboard stomach
and delicately curved *****
finally a man good enough for her
even if he was fly by night
when the heavens thickened gray
like soggy cotton
she could feel atmospheres shift
it made her ******* pert
her mouth would salivate
like a lurid peach
her ***** swelled and dampened
tears of adoration and enchantment
filled her eyes
no longer able to contain her self
she would strip naked
fling off her *******
and run out to the lush verdant meadows
calling at the top of her lungs
yoooooooooo hooooooooooo
as the cool rain descended
she ran thrilled to the mud between her toes
seeing great claws of white lightening echo
through the sky
without hesitation
she fell to the cool earth beneath her
wallowing in the delicious sloshing ooze
positioning her self on all fours
head thrown back
*** up high
calling to the heavens
come on, come on big boy
ive been waiting for you
let me have it good
her clitoral lips
drooled with anticipation
her ******
a pulsating aching
the sky rumbled
with stretching streaks of fire
like a great freight train
spanning infinity
while the earth shook like a
hollow moon
she swayed her hips
rhythmically to and fro
whispering a love song
*oh sir
i need a man like you
wont you love me
adorations true
i kneel before
my sweet Lord Thor
where's that hammer
come on and score
you are so big
and im so little
how about it God
just a tickle
hit it now
give it to me good
kisses baby
like only you could*
tears of desire cascaded
down her pink cheeks
as she recited her love mantra
her mouth naked wet
suddenly
a great bolt of lightening
shot down from heavens throne
entering her ******
splitting her in flames
her head turned dark mahogany
sent careening fifty yards
leaving her mouth
a yawning twisted smudge
of fossilized obsidian
with eyes
blackened flaring hollows
her tender pink ****
a charred flower
smoldering
like a
petite
grilled
calamari
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 9:45 AM UTC
every time we fall in love,
they call it trite,
a false fairy tale.
love is weak.
and weak ain't trending no more.
every time we speak our mind,
they tell us to shut up,
too young to have an opinion.
the youth is unreliable,
too many fresh hormones.
every time we stand up straight,
they cross us,
crucify us.
acquiescing is appropriate,
they gift certificates in frames for that.
every time we subscribe to a higher code of ethics,
they call us radical,
salivate, and spectate as we are torn asunder by lions.
love should never transcend national pride,
here it's guns, god, no homosexuals or mexicans all the time.
if i make a stand, and you make a stand,
and the dominoes begin to fall,
if i inspire a dozen, and you inspire a thousand,
the gears will grind, the tide will turn,
the lions will all be too full,
and
they surely will run out of nails,
before they've crossed every single one of us.
Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 9:26 PM UTC
He loves his soca and
His carnival.
He calypsos
Like only Dionysus could.
His power is like the
Nymph's - the Oceanid daughter that
Kept Odysseus from
Penelope - only stronger.
So mesmerising: his smile
Bursts with a contagious
Warmth, like the sun
Over his island homeland.
A gold cross hangs from a chain
Around his dark, dark neck.
The smell of his skin spices the air around him,
Making my mouth salivate.
He tastes like Mayan chocolate;
Slightly bitter and tinged with chilli.
The scars on his shoulders and back
Feel like a ripe nectarine againt my tongue.
I want to bite down and feel the juices
Run.
But.
He's a good Christian boy.
This island boy is an enigma.
Tall and willowy
Like a rapier, and
Strong and beautiful.
I wonder if this island boy
Would sheath his faith
In my worship,
For just one, cool, island night.
Jul 8, 2011
Jul 8, 2011 at 12:36 PM UTC
Oh, hello..
I ask Motivation to ravage me
So **** and out of reach
I wonder if he’ll notice me
Hey, Motivation.
Do I look **** with this Adderall?
When I dress like an adult?
When I spread my books wide open?
When I arch my back right out of bed
Does it make you want me?
Motivation, get out of my head!
I’m kidding... I like it when you taunt me.
When I think of you
I salivate
Look out my window,
watch you all day
You look so ****
that special way
You work those other students.
I’ll bite my lip and I’ll slowly crawl
Right to class, backpack and all
My eyes intense with innocence
Please don’t take your eyes off me.
Motivation, you know just what I like
When you make my grade point average rise
Look, Daddy-- my schedules so tight
But I still manage to squeeze in several hours to write
Oh Daddy…
Can I play with your friends?
Maturity, and Ambition?
I’m a spoiled brat but I’ll listen
Tie me up so I can’t deny you
Tell me “I’m gonna be inside you”
Please, Motivation I want to ride you
Have your friends watch…
After that, you can tell them to join in
So collegiate it must be a sin
I’m a ****** to this sort of thing
I guess I’ll take off my immaturity ring
For all you guys I’ll be so special
Fill my head with names until I go mental
Like “hardworking” and “determined”
Until I’m submissive to school and working.
Now let’s pretend
That I’m the student
I’ll call you sir,
Please don’t be prudent
Here’s my homework
Make me do it.
Mr. Motivation….
You know whats *****
My bedroom floor.
Here I’ll bend over
And clean it more.
My goodness, this isn’t like me!
I’m married! Don’t you see?
This is merely fantasy!
I’m incapable of priorities!
…When it’s against to whom I’m wed.
For now I’ll ride my washing machine
I’m faking that I am with thee
But this isn’t homework and my room’s not clean
I am just a bored wife of Apathy.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 12:28 PM UTC
I am worth being valued for existing
Not only in the moments
That I become relevant, necessary, or useful
For lustful, celebratory or inspirational insanity
I am not a lollipop or an exotic destination
Stop exploring me *************
Because you salivate over this Hispaniola
Beautiful island desecrated and decimated
How many beautiful spirits will you make savages
How many pure rivers will you **** blood on
How many conquests will you claim a stake in
How much balance will you disturb and subjugate
to the trauma of your transitory exploration
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who taste, plunder, disguise disapproval in their apologies and move on
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who pick and choose who's worth
Of validation, when, & how
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who play with men and women
Hierarchize their prey
But fail to acknowledge
Their man-child whitewashed
Hidden agendas & rigged market values
Conquerors haunted by the trauma they've caused
Will not be absolved by the revolution
Neither will the revolution be the breast
That heals conquers who are traumatized
By the realization of their own fuckery
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC
Mediocrity isn't my favorite flavor
But I make do
Tasting other sensations and qualities as well.
Like candied revenge,
And carmeled success.
But mediocrity is slightly different
It's bitter...
But not enough that it would ever cause me to settle
For something else
That was further from my seated reach.
It's also stale, at times,
As if it were left out on a bar all night,
To be eaten by others looking for, well
Anything.
As I bit down on mediocrity once more
I couldn't help but salivate
At the thought of achievement and drive
Memories of their savory aftertastes overtaking the putty being mulled about my teeth.
And I swallowed the paste.
Mostly to get the taste out of my mouth.
But as my taste buds clear,
And my thoughts drift elsewhere.
The idea that one more hand full of mediocrity
Might not be that bad.
Creeps into the back of my mind.
After all,
It is within reach.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
Call me fox and I will call you Jaguar
I normally walk the paths
gawking at every creature I pass
squawking loudly, regurgitating my wisdom distastefully
I spoke like coyote
foolisly
I continued on my way, in hopes of a creature large and as fearsome
as fearsome as you
Jaguar
to strike respect and fear into my heart and my actions
so that my meaning would not be soiled by my uncomely behavior
as I stalked you for days on the forrest floor
looking, watching your muscles flow over your skeleton
in a magestically dangerous motion
You can feel me
in the place all creatures feel, sense, and connect
as one
there is unspoken understanding between you and I
oh powerful warrior
and I am to know my place
in the order
you are beautiful and fascinating to me
a worthy objective on my walk
you are a specimen of the wonder of the world
of the god-like integrity and compassion
that penetrates the soul
you leave the marrow intact within the bone
for me to treasure
for my mouth to salivate and consume in haste
but in awe of the judgement you pass
the power bestowed unto you without a single act of self rightousness
we sleep on the same earthen bed
we dream from the same deep sleep
we touch, our stories, our tales of survival
they reach one another intuitively
and so long as I mind my place
silence my ego
I will forever walk beside you, following in your gracious example
as we venture deep with in the forrests density
living vicariously beside one another
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:45 AM UTC
We shift
Shuffling deadbeats
Wind south
Wind north
Biting to be
Filter the lungs
Breathe in the smoke
Fill in the guts
Consume me, consume me
Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw
Salivate static
Want, want, want
It’s no wonder we’ve grown endless teeth
Beneath our loveless grins
Can we even
Part the crowd
Anymore?
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 8:20 PM UTC
i sink my fork into a heaping bowl
twist and turn to form a roll
swirls around, i salivate
no longer can i wait
i indulge and it feels so good
tastes so delicious just like it should
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
If I could simply overcome
Possessive nouns and vowel sounds
I would not need to study ******
Heavy lies’ beheaded crowns
But you make martyrs with your charter
School exclusive service sector
To systemically condemn me
To the destitution nectar
Of the corner story ******
Potential Cinderella caged in
The statistics of the mathematic
Overdose equation
Comatose’n like a Holy Ghost
Of tranquil ranking party skanks
Whose tanks plan out the projects
For the boys still shootin’ blanks
And then the slavers liberate
Some nation-state of god forsaken
Oil barons salivate
To taste the poison Apple’s stake in
Stock in stuffer markets takin’
All the products people makin’
Privatizing profit-docket lawless
Mother Nature rapin’
For some scarcity disparities
In wealth I can’t attain
You keep me feeding on the bottom
From the top, you make it rain
So as the brains continue drainin’
In amenity dependency
I tinker with the inner-machinations
Now the enemy
You’ve made me out to be you see
My generation’s future’s bleaker
Than the past in full HD
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
I like my headphones for the
Insulation. Sometimes my ears
Take in too much stray noise,
Dredge up too much disorienting
Mud from the depths of a TV
Screen or an iPod. Then I can
Always snuggle into my headphones
And be silent - and silence is a
Dear dear commodity, to be sure,
When every other scene-
Stealing, pudgy-mouthed buffoon
Has to put his ten cents in. So
Much sound should be a sin;
Background music, ambient noise,
Music for airports, and pubescent
Boys screeching from tinny silver
Speakers near the wall. I don't
Want it, not every bit, not all
The hate and the slippery tongues
That speak and salivate and don't
Say anything human. I want to reprimand,
To excommunicate them from
This Holy rite of sound. (And really,
I would be content to never hear
Music if I could block out the roundabout
Fights and the sultry nightlife descriptions
Gushing from my screen, if I could
Use my headphones to keep
That liquid crystal from pouring in
My too needfully silent ears.)
Maybe I'll follow a painter's path:
All visuals and open dripping wet
Wrath with a noisy race. I can be a
Terrifying girl. Cut off my ears and
Be deaf to the world. Wrap me in
Canvas and chase me back into the
Woods on a starry starry night.
Sep 28, 2010
Sep 28, 2010 at 5:29 PM UTC
abused aromas
fuse the dwelling
throats slacken and tighten
good cooking can make a home
a rooted clut of tallow
home
sweaty home
ignite another cigarette
scrape a fingernail on the sofa
a white grippy trail
scrunch your toes in the deep greasy carpet
and salivate on the wender of smoke
from the cooking of the roast
Dec 27, 2021
Dec 27, 2021 at 11:38 AM UTC
Morning rituals make you rush
But someone gets up earlier than you
You never get the chance to be first
Ah, there's a wet towel on the sofa...again!
The tiny water puddles on the floor leading to the bedroom...
The kettle is whistling now
You bump onto each other in your haste
And you both stop.....to look at each other
Eyes brighten up....slowly give out beamish smiles.
There's toast and jam on the table
Steaming instant coffee is ready, but first,
You make a cup of fresh brew, hand it to him
His eyes squint, while he sips his hot tea,
You sit, eat, without much talk...just looking,
Like, looking at each other, and what would follow,
Would suffice to complete the hours of the day...
But, you're both dressed up... all set for work...so
You start your day....he starts his...you always leave ahead...
In the office, you remembered:
"What's the matter with me?"
You forgot to charge your cellphone and ipad last night
So you look for the charger
Only to find out, both are fully charged...
Your eyes sparkle...with much longing
Ahh, you wish for time to fly
So you could head for home, fast!
He's usually very hungry when he arrives
You hurry...chicken afritada, it will be...
Wait...the frozen chicken has been thawed...gone!
Hey!
You see a *** of chicken adobo...you salivate!
You surmise, he must've done this after you left this morning,
You look up...thank God for this angel He has given you,
And for microwave ovens, too!...you tell yourself,
"Okay, okay....I'll do the dishes tonight! ...and the coming nights!"
Life is perfect with its mix of the sweet and the bitter
Blockbuster moments and flops...together...apart
Uncontrollable smiles, frowns... tickles, tears
Even the coming....and passing of life
Days don't always end up on a high note...yet, now,
You sit, and recall all that had happened this morning
And the past mornings, evenings, weekends...
All that he did....does for you each day
All that you did...do for him everyday
All the chats you share before bedtime...until he snores,
All these combined efforts are much better ways, better proofs...
He rarely says those three words most often said by lovers,
But, you soar to Heaven, when before falling asleep,
He puts your head on his chest, and whispers to you:
"You mean the world to me."
Sally
Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 2:28 AM UTC
My animal awakens to dawns emergence
A languid stretch of sultry sleek limbs
As daybreak's ***** air delivers your delicious essence
Senses honed sharp to tease the beasts primitive chant
Through shafts of dusty light I gaze upon your lithe form
Morning glow whispers across male sinew
I smirk at how unaware you seem of my intent
As my wildness of greed growls impatient
My prey, I fear losing control with my desire for you
Reining in animal instincts scattering on a breeze
I stalk your sleepy, carefree movement
Footfalls soundless in the dawn
Voracious hunger claws at my belly
To feast upon your wholeness is needed like air
To glory in your taste of salty spice
My possession of you is not in question
Your strength is no match for my female stealth
As I choose to alert you to my presence
Run from me prey, just a few precious moments
Run, so I may relish this chase
My tasty morsel, your fearlessness puzzles me
The primal pumping of your pulse, your only tell
It's tribal cadence draws me still closer
I will have you beneath me on this misty morn
.
You'll know nothing of my bittersweet turmoil
The aching inferno ablaze in my *****
As your power over me lies in concealment
I am the mistress that controls your destiny
With regal grace I swiftly pounce
Pinning you to the cool earth
I nuzzle the masculine valleys before me
Pleased with the feast you present
.
Feral heat erupts as I scent the need you deny
Glands under my tongue weep yearning
Salivate for the ambrosia of your making
In ecstasy I'll feed to devour my craving
Dragging tongue along incisors edge
I revel one last moment in your heaving breaths
As passions bite pierces your throats hollow
My soul claims it's sensual prize
Submit to your goddess, my courageous warrior
Surrender your pride to my keeping
I possess you now, my beautiful prey
You belong to me...
Sep 6, 2012
Sep 6, 2012 at 5:35 AM UTC
Will my misery entertain?
Will he salivate at the prospects and their resulting effects?
Joy, he wouldn't contain.
"Oh girl, the things I could do." He did almost coo.
"I want you to remember this encounter long after I'm through."
"With fire, you chose to play. Such a childish fool, one only gets burnt that way."
Why does my creativity choose to bloom?
Why does it grow as I contemplate delving into the darkness, pitching my tent in the blackness, amongst all of the doom and gloom?
Will my soul be efficiently sort out and collected for The Man In Red to consume?
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 10:58 AM UTC
the hip children of the night
prey on logos and women,
they have created counterfeit cultures
made from images of yore
slipped their flesh under blankets
next to lovers or empty space
and declared war against
their own human race
chased down roads in eclectic threads
hollering into the wind with wild hair
that navigate over skin unaware of
history and tradition.
while the feral animals look on with
muted colors and salivate
with a thirst to apply
their instincts,
their tendencies
to seek out the enemy
instead of calmly waiting
for their alarming arrival.
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 4:01 PM UTC
The Equestrian
When we met
We could and would
Have a sunday brunch
We ate **** word appetizers
Before eruptions of love for our main course
We conversed about ecstasy
And drank tall glasses of progeny
And picked morsels of fantasy
Passed on the dessert
Enough sweetness in wetness
Salivate like rabid wolves
Over the thought that
your body brings me deepness
I guess I'm in depth
She straddles my imagination
I saddled her provocation
Learn the speed at which her mind gallops
While
We share our addictions
Compare our afflictions
Only to conclude we're of the same breed
An option I could of
If only I would of
But knowing I should of
Cause the timing is never right
Not all heros ride into the sunset
Not all villains would meet there demise
Xin
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 8:34 PM UTC
Moby ****
may have been
a
big
BIG
fish
and Ishmael
didn't have it so easy
But I need, I dream
of the epitome
of a flawless
ideal
piece of whitefish
A Succulent Bite
A Taste of Right
Hand battered
Deep fried
A
crunch
into heaven
Mouth-watering
yet light
Next to
crisp
oh-so
crisp
fries
Draft Rootbeer
Foam
in a mug
of delight
Mmmm Mmmmm
Seafood
See, this food
tastes like hope
Up North
I salivate
thinking of its
taste
thinking of
perfection
Man
Oh, Man
They don't make it
like this
anymore
So
so
fresh
This piece
Creates a sense
of peace
Harmony
on your palate
It turns
you up-turned nose
down
to the aroma
of a fisherman's skill
Natural Salt
of this world
brings you to a world
of pleasure
in a nibble
A coming together
on my plate
Skin-lined
Red Skin
potatoes
Frothy
Quenching
Rootbeer
Whitefish.
Simple Things
I found this fine trip
Combined with waterfall air
to breathe deep
My taste buds
had
gone up in
smoke.
My tongue
realized with
surprise
the possibilities of life.
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 2:15 AM UTC
I tried to tickle my vegan fancy
With bushels of quinoa and kale,
I was told no meat or dairy
Was the healthy Holy Grail.
But I was sad and hungry
With every burger I declined,
See me toss away my salad bowl,
I’m in a sirloin state of mind.
I filled my fridge with veggies,
Bean sprouts and legumes,
But I dreamt of pancetta
And links of sausage to consume.
Breakfast was plain yogurt
Lunch was collard greens,
Snacks were roasted edamame,
**** they’re just soy beans.
I was getting much too skinny,
My ribs were protruding,
I became short-tempered,
And was dark and brooding.
I covered all the mirrors,
I looked so pale and pasty,
All day I would salivate,
Craving something hot and tasty.
My vegan days are over
Enjoying pork chops, ham and bacon
I thought veggies were the answer,
But it seems I was mistaken.
Feel free to live off plants,
If you are so inclined,
But I’m firing up the grill,
I’m in a sirloin state of mind.
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
..[O]..
:::::::and
:::::::::::::::::shy
some moths dare
hang around a light,
dim, peeping....a lone
terra cotta lamp........not
bright enough....to guide a
journeying mind.....through
some dark paths......one....two
more lamps could help stop the
tripping..... .on life's many humps,
it makes the air....stale......with sighs,
uncomfortably moist, with cold sweat
the window curtains are a shield, a weak
wall, pregnant with longing
and apprehension.......soon
it will collapse, more moths
will fly free........the fleeing
the healing.......could make
nights longer...........the air
staler...............in this dark
conquering.............silence
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Evening rain showers merge with the
humid air.......the strong scent of the
growing pine tree...the scarce light
the aroma of chicken, simmering
in a mix of vinegar, soy sauce
...............garlic and spices
penetrate my nostrils and
infuse the atmosphere,
and.....disconcert me
i'm taken back, i gulp
i salivate...a late solo
dinner awaits...glass
of wine.......beckons
i give in....i sit by the
garden table.......raise
my wine glass.......i say
"Cheers!"...........tonight's
.................not so full moon
..........is shy............and hazy
as i hum....Patsy Cline's, "Crazy."
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::::Sunday moon, May 1, 2016:::::
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Sally
Copyright May 1, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 8:14 PM UTC
Wake up and write the first thing that comes to mind, if your thirst for creation doesn’t salivate your eyes, then your brains imagination is running mighty dry.
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
Each afternoon in June,
I loiter-linger on the corner of 37th avenue,
Both eyes asleep,
A summer’s sunset smile on my face,
A flock of fairies in free float round my head.
My habit, a daily pause,
Plant my haunch against the blue barrel mail box,
Old empty drum, anachronism, stubborn antique.
I cringe at the mad jazz of shrieks and horns on cue,
The hatter’s rush at end of day,
There is purpose in this cacophony,
My city boasts and brags with noise,
Intoxicated on aroma,
A frequency with every smell.
Baptiste’s Pizza owns the breeze at 4 p.m.
Inhale this baker’s breath,
An oven-joy in one warm gust,
Blond baked crust,
Tomatoes boil and bubble cheese,
Salt fresh anchovies, red peppers,
A currency of meats.
I salivate and lick the wind,
Hunger is desire.
Sudden harmony in one sweet waft,
A pleasant jet stream,
A toker passes by,
And gifts me with a 60’s contact high.
A small girl’s mouthful voice,
A jam cram of donuts is my guess.
The rattle, clap and black lung cough,
An old school diesel delivery truck,
The air brakes squeal for release,
It’s quitting time and everything wants to be free
A homeboy, my local jive,
I know his dreams,
A lacquered finish,
In love with his axe,
You feel me... tap, bump and go.
Vinegar and toxic spice,
A window washer’s delight,
He squeals a squeaky clean
Fresh roses, oh a hopeful night, bonne chance,
The catastrophe of a cigarette,
The killer joy of a fresh cigar,
An uptown girl's stealth perfume,
She knows her prey,
He knows her ploy,
A mid west girl and a downtown boy
Daylight begs to dim,
The sun will witness just enough, no more,
My corner holds its own,
Each afternoon my part in scenes,
I dream,
And never wish, but often wonder,
About the life that might have been.
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 4:08 PM UTC
Where is the terror please in a blameless mind
Show me the pain and fears in a brimful loving heart
Find me the nightmares 'n demons in blessed slumber
Wish me the tears in pious gratitudes real and plenty
Produce a charge sheet of dark deeds and secrets hidden
Bring witnesses of a stained criminal past and stolen items
Front me a past lover with tales of **** or ****** misdeeds
Show me anybody truly implicating me in any foul deeds
Ask my betrothed of ever knowing me drunk and disabled
Dig out any associations of me with friends of ill-repute
Point a day I conducted myself disgracefully 'n disrespectfully
Stand out a neighbour I went begging and borrowing from
Twirling taunting is nowt but delusions of ****** fantasists
Nothing to do with one devoid of fears and guilt of the neurotics
Show us the happy contented one who gives time to mudslinging
Even the most basic of intelligence tells us this is an impossibility
There are nasties out there kicking a poor policewoman in the head
There are repugnant foreign Taxi-drivers prostituting teen girls about
There are hate filled Terrorist willing to **** innocents unflinching
While our deranged think school playground antics is all they're worth
These are the ones that salivate in front of computer screens
Unwashed Keyboard cowards parading malfunctioning brains
Attention and ambition lacking deficits sad subhumans waiting to be fed
How can wasted western fodders impact on my consciousness or even my subconscious
Those by their evident actions already show they lack rationality, intelligence or understanding
Inadequates whose only recourse is to showcase their inferiority in pained envy and jealousy by trying to bully
Insignificant runts who can't better themselves despite opportunities abound
Dr Livingstone come see what your children from your Great Empire has become
You told our forefathers you came from the very cradle of Civilisation
A land of freedom and great knowledge
How come now your childrens are pathetic ignorant irrational insecure deluded cowards
What to do with morons other than to pitifully toss them a morsel of our talents once a while and laugh as they feed hungrily
You gotta laugh!
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC