"salon" poems
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer
was leading a lonely life working nights
at the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory
where he was in charge of loading crates
full of fukfoorfiffenfimmers, onto cargo cars destined for the city of Cincinnati.
There was such a huge demand for fukfoorfiffenfimmers in the city of Cincinnati,
poor Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer worked his hunnyhush to the bone.
On one of his few holiday weekends,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer went to a hair salon for a trim.
Here he was attended by a hairdresser named, Henrietta Huckhellopolis.
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer instantly fell for the husky-voiced hairdresser.
Gaining enough gumption and gallasisgoppingguff needed to bypass beating around the bush of courteous courtship,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer asked Henrietta Huckhellopolis if she wanted to leerlumpaloomp later that evening.
"I would love to leerlumpaloomp later this evening," she replied, batting her long lashes lustily.
And how those two leerlumpaloomped!
They leerlumpaloomped long through the night.
They leerlumpaloomped so loudly,
the neighbours ended up sticking stuffystoils
into their sensilivities, in hopes of drowning out the noise.
Nine months later,
the lovers were blessed with a litter of lullaloonillies—wot with the loud leerlumpaloomping and all.
But, of the seven lullaloonillies, four of them had two lumpalots instead of one.
Bolstering himself against drowning in despair at the prospect of having sired freak lullaloonillies,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer helped design fukfoorfiffenfimmers especially meant for lullaloonillies who have two lumpalots instead of one.
As the double-lumpalot fukfoorfiffenfimmers
were Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer's idea, the owner of the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory gave Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer
a forty percent cut of the royalties.
*Fortunately some fairy tales come with a happy ending, because the city of Cincinnati was hit with a record number of lullaloonillies
born with two lumpalots instead of just the one.
The high sales of double-lumpalot fukfoorfiffenfimmers,
enabled Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer and Henrietta Huckhellopolis
to quit their jobs and buy into the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory.
Yes, after getting married,
Harry Heironymous and Henrietta Huckhellopolis-Huffenhoffer
lived happily hever hafter.
So did the lullaloonillies....
including those with two lumpalots instead of one.*
Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 1:16 PM UTC
Paborito kong laruan ay baril-barilan
At hindi mga manika o lutu-lutuan.
Hilig ko rin ang manuod ng action movies
Kaysa mga disney princess' movies
Pero babae ako.
Ayaw na ayaw ko sa bestida, palda,
Mga make-up at kung anu-anong pampaganda.
Mas gugustuhin ko ang tumakbo o mamundok
Kaysa magpunta sa mall at sa salon.
Pero babae ako.
Hindi pa ko nagka-boyfriend o nagkagusto sa lalaki
Ngunit sa babae ay maraming beses nang kinilg.
Mas gugustuhin ko na mahulog sa babae
Kaysa sa lalaki sumuko.
Pero babae ako.
Jan 4, 2017
Jan 4, 2017 at 4:26 AM UTC
Having ripped my way through
Concrete older than my father
With jackhammer and
Shovel
I rest. As thirsty as sweaty and *****
As dirt.
Across the street
The ladies at the hair salon
Whistle and wave giggling girishly.
Clouds of menthol.
**** sexists.
I put my shirt back on.
It's not even lunch and I'm
Less than a Diet Coke ad
Without the coke.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 7:39 AM UTC
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
Celebration
A child of God on his creation
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
A cake
The sweet smell plus the time it took to make
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
Blowing out candles hot dripping wax
65 candles fire to the max
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
Singing the song
A sadness lingered all day long
Is A Birthday A Birthday
Without
A friend to share it with
Or are all these reasons just a myth
Pouring Rain fierce winds rocked my car
I walked the mall
Beauty Salon new look cut style my hair
No one to notice or to care
Shopping
Victoria Secrets, things I did not need
But made me smile
The happness only lasted a short while
See’s candy, picked out my favorite kind
Still sad loneliness on my mind
Bed bath and beyond; rosewater candles
Surely the scent would cheer my mood
Perhaps
Chinese’s food
Wonton soup and *** stickers To take home
Painful knee ended my time to roam
Reading comments ,well wishers who
Remember my Birthday
I’m done celebrating now
Ready for the end of this Day
Text messages Facebook too
I wish I understood I wish I knew
Why I feel this way
Tomorrow
Will be
A bright
New Day
Inspired Song
1) It’s my party by Lesley Gore
(And I’ll cry if I want to)
2) Happy birthday the new kids by on the block
3) Happy birthday by John Lennon
4) happy birthday by “Weird Al” Yankovic
5) happy birthday by Loretta Lynn
6) birthday by Katy Perry
7) happy birthday by Stevie Wonder
8) birthday by The Beatles
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 5:44 AM UTC
They hate the shadow of the bird
over the high water of the white cheek
and the conflict of light and wind
in the salon of the cold snow.
They hate the bodiless arrow,
the precise handkerchief's farewell,
the needle that keeps the pressure and the rose
in the cereal blush of the smile.
They love the blue desert,
the swaying bovine expressions,
the lying moon of the poles,
the water's curved dance at the shore.
With the science of tree trunk and street market
they fill the clay with luminous nerves
and lewdly skate on waters and sands
tasting the bitter freshness of their millennial spit.
It's through the crackling blue,
blue without worm or a sleeping footprint,
where the ostrich eggs remain eternal
and the dancing rains wander untouched.
It's through the blue without history,
blue of a night without fear of day,
blue where the **** of the wind goes splitting
the sleepwalking camels of the empty clouds.
It's there where the torsos dream under the gluttony of grass.
There the corals soak the ink's despair,
the sleepers erase their profiles under the skein of snails
and the space of the dance remains over the final ashes.
7.5k
Husbands, raise your hands
Keep them up if you love your wife
Keep them up if you colour your wifes hair
Okay, this is for the three of us that are left....
I did my wife a favour
As I do, because I can
I help her when I'm able
Not just because I am a man
I **** bugs when requested
I do the laundry like I should
I clean the bathroom when it's *****
And by doing so , feel good
Every few weeks I will help her
Hide the grey that she can see
I don't volunteer to do it
But it's cheap to hire me
A salon visit is expensive
Doing hair, and waiting hours
I just slip on my latex hand wear
And I have a bag full of super powers
Yes, I help my wife get couloured
I take the time and do her hair
I also, get it on the tiles
Up the wall and on two chairs
The dog gets covered just a little
The rug, a window and the bed
But, we always buy two packets
So, there's enough to do her head
I have a jacket slightly mottled
It's got a few brown spots, some red
I don't know exactly how it happened
I even got some on our bed
Just call me Mr. Kenneth
In my jumpsuit doing hair
I get it where I think she needs it
And I spray it everywhere
She comes out looking gorgeous
She's always happy with the result
She always looks a little different
Like someone who believes in the occult
If you're a husband who likes money
Save it, colour your wife's hair
Your part only takes ten minutes
You need ten towels, one mask, one chair
It brings us both closer together
My arms look like a leopard skin
All my shirts are slightly spotted
But all those spots, make me look thin
I've got to go now and get cleaned up
The carpets ruined, so's the wood
But, she's happy and we all know that
If the wife is happy....all is good!
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:22 PM UTC
we ate government cheese
that came in a dull brown box
we were too young
to understand what welfare
and food stamps meant,
our empty bellies never protested
at the salty orange blocks
in front of the bodega,
we saw a woman introduce a hammer
to a drunk tyrant’s skull
his blood pooling on the streets
was too red for new eyes
we watched hypodermic needles
bloom on stoops
cling to life on curbs
the graffiti on abandoned buildings
was our Louvre, our Salon de Paris
sweltering streets our baseball diamonds
prostitutes, black or brown or both
mothered us between shifts
we grew up in projects,
that sheltered drab lives
and senseless brutalities
gunfire, sharp and immutable
punctured lullabies
we were small boys
watching life unfold
the way one stares at an accident
detached and mildly curious
eyeing cooly the despair
and impossible hopelessness
of growing up poor
in Brooklyn
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
For the first time on campus, Sisters on the Runway will strut and pose for domestic violence awareness.
Sisters on the Runway will be hosting its first annual fashion show from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. tonight in the Business Building. All proceeds will be donated to the Centre County Women's Resource Center, Layla Taremi president of the organization, said.
Sisters on the Runway is a national student-run organization that raises awareness about women and children who reside in domestic violence shelters. There are over five chapters throughout the nation, each supporting the same cause to local shelters. It was founded in 2009 and has grown since then, Taremi (sophomore-marketing) said.
Aside from the fashion show, which is the biggest fundraising event that the organization hosts, Sisters on the Runway is also responsible for other events. The organization hosts a chalking event where they write facts about domestic violence on sidewalks using chalk. This is a way for them to raise domestic violence awareness, Taremi said. It also hosts a walk where all participants walk a mile in heels for awareness.
The show will consist of eleven female models and three male models, Edie Alexander, the event planner, said.
Alexander said the show is expected to showcase clothing from Connections, Dwellings, Diamonds and Lace Bridal and Harper's, who are also their sponsors. Looks Hair Salon will be responsible for hair and makeup for the models in show, Taremi said.
"There is no theme for the show,” Taremi said. “It will be a wide spectrum of clothing."
The male models are expected to walk the runway showcasing suits and tuxedos, Taremi said. Originally the show was not going to include male models. It wasn't until the owners of Harper's decided to contribute to the show by donating some men's apparel for the fashion show.
All the models participating have been building up their confidence for the runway, Alexander (sophomore-recreation park and tourism management) said.
"I'm excited for our first annual fashion show, I hope this brings more awareness to the Penn State community," Vice President Lauren Shearer (sophomore-supply chain management) said.
The organization’s goal is to get a lot of people involved through different events to help raise awareness of domestic violence, Shearer said.
"We’re trying to push people to come, not just Penn State students, because it's not an issue that doesn't only affects college students,” Alexander said. “It affects everyone as well."Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
She had a perfume that smelled like jasmine when she woke me up in the morning and like roses when she tucked me in at night
It was the same perfume sprayed from the same bottle, but it smelled different every time I visited her
Her perfume translated her feelings into delicate smells … smells I will never be able to forget
The same perfume is still sprayed from the same bottle …
but now … it smells like fear
She no longer wears that perfume … “it makes me sad” she says …
It makes us all sad! …
Its drizzling droplets brushes against our senses awakening sedated memories …
Memories of …
Of grandpa’s happy eyes, warm embracing voice and tender sheltering hug … he was the kind of person whose presence can be felt from a distance. He would smile every time your eyes meet his as if he was noticing you for the very first time …
Of mother’s childhood dreams tucked carefully in her braided hair …
Of baby brother’s golden straight hair and wide curious brown eyes
Of our tiny apartment whose windows allowed light to enter only from her room … the burgundy colored velvet salon chairs neatly covered by off white sheets … the noisy fridge who made sure everyone noticed me steeling ice-cream at midnight …
Grandma’s perfume harbors our memories …
Its droplets carry away our happiness leaving us stinking of fear!
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 2:51 PM UTC
I suppose that I should be writing about the pencil itself, how its pale cerulean self lights up my taupe desk (yes, taupe.), or perhaps how the navy stamps that embellish it bleed a little at the sides
smeared, or even the sheer fact that it says "hoppy Easter"with little bunnies on it, which is ironic because it is January.
(and even funnier because the little bunnies look like demons waiting to pounce on your soul, slightly feline...feline bunnies?)
But no.
I sing instead the song of that metal thing at the end of the pencil, crimped like a tin can stuck in a sixties hair salon--the small item that sort of resembles Darth Vader; the metal thing that, when you think about it, you never notice; the thing that holds the eraser in place and the lead in the wood, and the wood in a line, the line for your pencil holder at the top of your desk (your taupe desk) that you write on and without writing you'd die...
Without life you don't exist.
I sing to the tiny piece of metal that is out of place, yet holds the world as we know it together. Because in a way, I know how it feels to bridge together two elements; two worlds, if you will.
It's a difficult task indeed to hold it all together. And I realize, staring at the satanic rabbits adorning my writing utensil that this thing doesn't have a name.
Dec 22, 2009
Dec 22, 2009 at 6:16 PM UTC
1.
People say you can tell a lot about a woman's style by what her nails look like.
For my mother, acrylics with baby pink sparkly french-tips.
For the blonde sitting at the nail dryer, coral.
Something about the color
looks strange with her new engagement ring.
She talks about how the second time she hung out with her fiancé
she asked him to paint her nails.
Her mother, who she insists she'll pay for, gets french tips.
They look new and fresh in contrast to her tarnished wedding ring.
The little girl with skinned knees and bug bites sitting in the chair across from me asks for blue polish on her toe nails.
Her mother tells her she should get pink.
2.
The act of women getting their nails done reminds me of warriors being armed for a fight.
long acrylics,
pointed,
rounded,
squared,
all fit for different types of battle.
Pointed for the woman who has to walk home alone at night,
rounded for the woman in the workplace who must work harder than her male co-workers,
and square for the woman at home raising her kids to know that strength and kindness
are the same thing.
3.
The women who work here speak better English than most high school students.
And their accents tell stories that I will never know.
An older woman speaks loudly and slowly,
she treats them as if they do not understand.
She will not speak to anyone but the owner; she wants him to translate what she wants to the salon workers.
What she doesn't realize is
that she is the only person here who doesn't understand.
4.
The little girl's doll is named Tessa.
She tells me that she likes my hair and shoes,
even though she has been told not to talk to strangers
twice in the last hour she has been here.
She asked her mother for change,
we all assume it's for the gumball machine in the corner.
She puts all of it in the charity jar.
I hope this girl never changes.
5. Having bare nails in a nail salon
feels the same as being naked in public.
6.
I feel terrible for laughing at the women trying to walk in those little salon flip-flops.
Some look like ducks,
others look like trained Barbies;
marching
newly polished,
ready for the world to chip away their coating
over,
and over,
and over again.
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
Sat at the hairdressers
Hearing the gossip
Relaxes a woman and her senses.
Nothing outside the door of the salon
matters.
Just the head massage, and gossip.
The world has stopped as her locks
are chopped.
If only a closed door could keep the world at bay.
But, the door will open,
the world will flood in
and with it, for next time, more gossip!
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
When I was three
And my mother brushed my hair
She parted it carefully
And braided it equally.
Two fat plaits
Hung as even as my stare.
When I was nine
And the hairbrush was my foe
Wild curls entwined
Personality defined.
Hair tangling
Faster than it could grow.
When I was fifteen
And hair hit the salon floor
I just wanted to be seen
So dyed it pink, blue and green.
Hair chopped short
Little girl no more.
Now I'm twenty-three
No longer in the nest
My parting is messy
And my braids escapee.
A hairy reminder
That mother knows best.
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
As the wet wind hums its way through our two tower six-cylinder apartment complex. Birds fall from their naked winter wept branches, braced by stiff bones, mapped out in Alexandria, carrying notes from El Salvador. The corner market is closed, never opened. A hair salon stands in its place, it wrings out the "R's" from a Philadelphia warshing.
And like every night, hot air cakes on an extra layer of indecipherable red dots up the arms and around the neck, minute pustules of hypochondria that steal my finger tips from the keyboard. I scratch and tip them, looking under their fiery scarlet caps for, I-don't-know-what disease. Paul says It's that magic school bus melanoma, typhoid drip, it comes at you from a computer screen and eats at your nervous system until you've got the wambles.
Tuesday's used to be the worst, until I OWNED THAT **** I make a pronoun out of aluminum foil and wear it as a hat on a first date. Tinder is not bad for conceptual art projects. I carry it within me like an anodyne complex, out into the frozenness; into my mouth the air comes around my teeth, behind my uvula until winter freezes my voice and I am breathless.
I abandon my miniature house to enter the pyramidal pinetum to the North. Wild paradise shrubs gather with songless animal noises watching as I take naked photographs of my father to preserve his body from anything less than his great immortal end. He lives on black moss and water from a nearby pond,
he authors the face of Anthony Hopkins, thrown about, another casualty of fervid and blurry dreaming.
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
The sign sun stains in the duct taped window advertising gainful employment in a part time pay by the hour washer deryer upstairs hair stylist crumbling 1960s salon.
Chipped white washed paint draws in the custom customers offering permanates in every style and yesterday's hair of tomorrow "put it on today don't worry about it till tomorrow! The doors open to a bell and hairspray smell, something that might catch fire in a spark or cancer the lungs.
The smock and name tag carry home the hairspray scent and ghost in store radio fades the ears from sleep. The bed reminds you of the pay check though so you push it all aside.
Help wanted wanted help to get out of the make me want to die lifestyle
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
Where did you get your clothes from, the dollar store
What do they do to their hair when it itches.
Do you know that there is a place called the beauty salon?
There is nothing worse but seeing my friend pat her weave
They stink more than ****
What's up with the hair
If you need help all you need to do is ask!!
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 12:27 PM UTC
I saw you at the subway the other day
You were drinking hot chocolate
I thought about asking you for a sip
but on second thought I didn't want to burn my tongue
I chased you up the stairs and outside
I got into a taxi cab
I didn't want to see you, you were looking good
I wanted to cool off and take some time out of the busy day
I heard a knock on my door, my door
Who was there?
What are you doing here?
I'm really not sure you should be here right now
Because I'm going. It's getting a little pricey
that you should be in Sweden, my friend
because it's the only place for you
I hear they have really nice gear of sorts there.
You should be in Sweden, my friend.
Yeah, you should be in Sweden.
Get yourself to Sweden
I'll tell you what we can do
You're not bent on calling me
and we'll do lunch, I'm sure.
Your fax machine can fax my bags
and it will get in touch with your answering machine's secretary.
Your hair doesn't shine like it used to.
You're not using that conditioner I gave you last year for your birthday.
It was salon selected. I thought you would like it.
And now I'm so scared. I'm pale as white.
I would invite you to sit but I didn't want you to ruin my new sofa.
I've felt this too many times.
I just got myself back up the nerve to say, the nerve
that you should be in Sweden, my friend.
What are you doing here?
You should be in Sweden.
You can ski when you're there.
You should be in Sweden, my friend.
Yeah, get yourself to Sweden.
I don't care how you do it.
Just go to Sweden. Go to Sweden.
I'll tell you what we can do.
You're not bent on calling me,
but we'll do lunch, I'm sure.
Your fax machine can fax me back
and get in touch with my cappuccino maker.
You're not bent on calling me,
and we'll talk for a while, I'm sure.
You can get back my postcard machine
and it'll get in touch with your answering machine's secretary.
May 15, 2012
May 15, 2012 at 5:16 AM UTC
Khoobsoorti sadaf ki be misaal hoti hai....
Raaz hai uska jo chipa us mein ek moti hai.....
Sadaf ke do pat gar misaal e miya biwi hain...
Unki shadi ka rishta hi woh chipa moti hai...
Naazuk magar bohot woh baareek taar hota hai. ....
Jo us moti ko bana ke haar apne mein pirota hai...
Lamhe se lamha judta hai to ek zindagi banti hai...
Aur do zindagiyan milti hai to ek shadi ki ladi banti hai...
Qadam se qadam milane mein khud ki pehchaan bhi khoti hai...
Alag se rang mein rangi phir shaksiyat dono ki nikharti hai....
Azwaji zindagi ke kuch apne masale bhi hote hain...
Kaanton se bhari raahon mein paththar bhi biche hote hain....
Zakhm in rahon par chal kar zaroor hasil hote hain...
Tab woh dono hi to ek duje ka marham hote hain...
17 saalon mein maine to bas itna hi seekha hai....
Hai woh kaamyaab rishta mohabbat se jisko seecha hai...
Sona chandi jis tarah ek aurat ko sajata hai...
Pyar o ehteraam waise hi rishte ko banata hai...
Wafa ka bhi to ek bohot ehm muqaam hota hai...
Qaayam uske dam pe hi to aitmaad hota hai....
Kuch aise hi to daqeeq yeh uroosi rishte hote hain....
Beinteha mohabbat se jinhe in jodon ne seechein hain...
25 o 50 salon ka yeh safar e taweel mubarak ** ..
Aapko yeh khoobsurat qaid e hayaat mubarak ** ..
Dua karti hain "Ain" laa zawal mausam e ulfat **
Masrur rahe hayaat, har lamha pur rifaqat **
Sep 9, 2020
Sep 9, 2020 at 7:31 AM UTC
People often say now I understand
When they hear that I'm from Paree
Not Gay Paree silly, but redneck
In the heart of Tennessee
I am the newest style of hairdressers
Here to lay out all the facts
I no longer work on the tops of heads
But straight out of the pits
It all happened when I got bored
With the every day to day
Trimming of the head left me feeling dead
That's when it hit me..."Underarm Braid"
That right there was my life saver
That right there was my turn around
If it didn't make me world famous
At least it did on this side of town
Now people come from as far as Nashville
To have their underarms done
I even gave a left and right pit Mohawk
To the Governor's daughter and son
What? Did you think I only braided?
There's so much more that I can do
Just ask the Punk Rock Chick's that wait in line
To have their armpits colored blue
My older clientele have let there hair grow out
Since it is they learned
I'm now specializing in for both women and men
Their favorite sets and perms
So feel the freedom of the pits
That hippie chicks have long since known
Here at Michael's Salon Of Pits
We'll do something special with that growth
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 8:42 AM UTC
GREEN Chapter One
As Kenya lie on the floor at Club Envy with her lungs burning and filling up with blood from being shot by an unknown person she thought her life would never end like this. Kenya tears started to flow as she thought of the years she spent silthering with snakes. Her job at the BNB Bank made it easy to launder money for the Black Crime Syndicate. It was six years ago in the month of June that her life took a downward spiral.
Upset at the thought of being late for work Kenya floored the gas pedal. As she passed by the slow moving drivers weaving in and out of traffic Kenya hoped she didn't get a ticket. I just had to stay up late watching the marathon of Funny Man. Now I got to race the clock and pray I don't get stopped by the police thought Kenya as she sped past the other drivers. As Kenya pulled into the BNB Bank parking lot she checked the time.
"It's 7:55a.m. I made it within five minutes."
Kenya got out of her car and walked through the bank's glass doors.
As time passed the employees of BNB got the bank ready for the public. One of the three people that arrived at the time of opening was a new face. Mmmmmm yummy thought Kenya as she walked up to the tall light skinned man.
"Hello sir how may I help you?" asked Kenya as she eyed the man up and down.
"My name is Malik Maxwell Williams. I would like to open a checking and savings account" answered the tall light skinned man.
"Mr. Williams please follow me to my office."
As Kenya and Malik sat in Kenya's office filling out papers Kenya made it up in her mind that she would get to know Malik on a personal level. After a days work Kenya got behind the wheel of her red BMW and started her drive home. On her way home. On her way home Kenya called her best friend Jewel Stonewall.
"Hello Jewel how are you?" asked Kenya with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand holding her cellphone.
"I'm doing great Kenya. What's up?" answered Jewel Stonewall as she did one of her client's hair at her salon the Golden Scissors.
"Are we still on for Saturday?"
With a confused look on her face Jewel asked
"Is the day Friday already?"
"Yeah girl what day did you think it was?"
"To tell you the truth Kenya I thought the day was Thursday."
"No Jewel it's Friday. I'm glad I have a friend who owns a hair salon."
"You better be thankful. I'll talk with you later Kenya."
"Ok by Jewel."
Kenya Ayanna Night was a plain looking black woman in her 30's who lived a very plain life. She always looked forward to Saturday. A day she would spend at the Golden Scissors getting her hair done and talking with Jewel Stonewall her childhood friend.
Written by: Keith Edward Baucum
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 2:32 PM UTC
aerobics ,beauty salon,
poetry session--
beauty care for the mind.
Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 7:06 AM UTC
Gangnam pool Salon Systems 010-3923-7007
◈◈◈1 subsystem ◈◈◈ (bukchangdong expression system)
Total 1 hours 10 minutes in the dazzling music
Battle (early, late), so enter twice
Room sokeseoneun Group hug, and he can touch etc.
Hot and soft feel hot to the touch. Jeonhaeohneun body ^^
Gangnam sarongs at a time in the pool with a drink excitement ~
◈◈◈2 subsystem ◈◈◈ (geukgang lover mode @)
Jilpeon the furnace for 1 hour 10 minutes Part 1 The inconvenience syeotjiman slightly south are you?
Putt regret that much short of a definite home run finished in Part 2
Noldeon lady in the room and go hand in hand up the field unforgettable beats the best
Enjoy ^^ Part Time Lover service total 50 minutes without wanting Gangnam pool sarongs best service!
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
early after-noon, she quizzes,
“would I be ok with
skinless boneless roasted
chicken breast, with sautéed
mushrooms for our dinner,
ce soir?”
so smile I,
for it is a favored menu
of pleasure,
from one who has never
presented us a meal
that is less than perfect
later, she shyly inquires,
“would be ok if we to eat
a little early, I have a salon,
followed by an
Argentine Tango dance milonga
tonight and one starts early (and
tango parties
end typically
the next day?
(no|si, me, don’t dance)
of course, respondez in
the affirmative, thus
confirming our love with the
consideration that veins
out affection mutual
and then I add:
“instead of an hours food prep,
which distracts you from the hour
deeded for dressing
for dancing motivation proper,
and add a little kick-her:
*I love you so much,
would happily consume
your tuna fish salad sandwich,
every night, for the rest of our
lives together, it’s fast
and simple, a dis-less-stressing
concoction, that we both enjoy*
she (s)miles a sweetened thanks,
after numerous reassurances,
that our love only grows
stronger with acts of smart
sensitivity to each others needs,
no standard of care breached,
au contraire, meant sincerely,
earning me a secondary
whiling smiling
and this true story is a poem,
has been writ a thousand times,
in a million different tiny gestures,
of which, I am proud
she exhales a breath elongated,
a release of an admixture of differing
pleasures released, and goes into the
night to dance in the arms of strangers,
which concerns me
not at all,
after all,
these many years,
aware she moves exquisitely
in a dance that demands years
of practice, for it requires
intangible silent of the merest
slight finger pressures to guide
the dancer what next steps
are coy coming,
and I have stolen this
knot of knowledge,
for mine own purposes,
secretly & selfishly,
employing these techniques,
for most of the time we’ve
been together
this poem of
tuna fish sandwiches,
becomes a dance of words
which is
my specialty, which she will
read in the morning l, maybe,
if I send it to her,
though obviously,
that is unnecessary 😉
as she returns to our bed,
me asleeping, she,
exhaustingly satisfied,
sleeeps deeper
secured by the knowing
that we, are both,
the beneficiaries of:
my learned dancing
practices
for such is
the ways of the poet!
Dec 14, 2024
Dec 14, 2024 at 10:39 AM UTC
Olive Spectrum - An employee at the BNB Bank. Olive Spectrum is best friends with Jewel StoneWall. She is the love interest for Akurra Wings.
Akurra Wings - The leader of the Black Crime Syndicate. Akurra owns a scrap yard. Akurra is thd love interest for Olive Spectrum.
Jewel StoneWall - The owner of the Golden Scissors hair salon. Jewel StoneWall is best friends with Olive Spectrum.
The Black Crime Syndicate - A black criminal organization led by Akurra Wings. The symbol for the Black Crime Syndicate is a winged snake coiling around a Cherry Blossom tree.
Amber Forest - The second in command of the Black Crime Syndicate.
Edward Davis - The owner of Club Envy strip club.
Jade Moss - The leader of The Jade Dragons. Jade Moss is a black woman.
Green Haven - The name of the city where the story takes place.
The Jade Dragons - A criminal organization led by Jade Moss. The Jade Dragons are allies with The Black Crime Syndicate.
BNB Bank - The bank where Olive Spectrum is employed.
The Golden Scissors - A hair salon owned by Jewel StoneWall.
Club Envy - A strip club owned by Edward Davis.
The Long Arm Bandits - A criminal organization who members are corrupt police officers. The long arm bandits are rivals to The Black Crime Syndicate.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC