"seducers" poems - Hello Poetry

ken not the vive la différence! entre les deux, these two bed and head chambers, for all poets are seducers, regardless of *** race, creed or color when first we employ our working, yeoman vocabulary, we plain start, to relate but not to regale, the whom we are, hoping our moments unique, will breach the boundaries of our collective commonality connectivity, and find human receptivity thus, the seduction of self commences though every possible combination of words has somewhere been inscribed and committed, we ****** ourselves (the seduction of poetry) with potions of notions that we are and always be our first, and now soon forever, yours as well of course, we are, it's true, our very own first admirer & lover, having conquered the hillock of self, see the universe expanding and the ****** need to conceive and prowess to please beyond the beyond with the poetry of seduction do not want your body, heart or soul, commitment, allegiance, vows, sacred or profane, all such in vain crave your everything, not even a legal nine-tenths satisfactory dare not call me arrogant or presumptive, gaze upon the mirror that cannot lie, rereading thy words assemblage, and deny to lie to yourself want you, you want me, my adoration, we want to be in a poem together, lovers at the molecular level where words dissected into letters, then again, into guttural sounds where a simple outcry is an elegy, a love poem, a wound, a denouement, a preface, a tear, a welling, a heaving, a sigh, an exhalation, all, an entrance to where the need for words is long since past the sin and crown of seduction completed, unanimously now breathe out and then, breathe in

0

Jul 3, 2017

Jul 3, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC

makingloveintheafternoon

the poetry of seduction, the seduction of poetry

ken not the vive la différence! entre les deux, these two bed and head chambers, for all poets are seducers, regardless of *** race, creed or color when first we employ our working, yeoman vocabulary, we plain start, to relate but not to regale, the whom we are, hoping our moments unique, will breach the boundaries of our collective commonality connectivity, and find human receptivity thus, the seduction of self commences though every possible combination of words has somewhere been inscribed and committed, we ****** ourselves (the seduction of poetry) with potions of notions that we are and always be our first, and now soon forever, yours as well of course, we are, it's true, our very own first admirer & lover, having conquered the hillock of self, see the universe expanding and the ****** need to conceive and prowess to please beyond the beyond with the poetry of seduction do not want your body, heart or soul, commitment, allegiance, vows, sacred or profane, all such in vain crave your everything, not even a legal nine-tenths satisfactory dare not call me arrogant or presumptive, gaze upon the mirror that cannot lie, rereading thy words assemblage, and deny to lie to yourself want you, you want me, my adoration, we want to be in a poem together, lovers at the molecular level where words dissected into letters, then again, into guttural sounds where a simple outcry is an elegy, a love poem, a wound, a denouement, a preface, a tear, a welling, a heaving, a sigh, an exhalation, all, an entrance to where the need for words is long since past the sin and crown of seduction completed, unanimously now breathe out and then, breathe in

54

. *We kissed under moon Pox of stars grew flowering Nightshade of her lips*

0

Feb 13, 2017

Feb 13, 2017 at 8:08 PM UTC

ormond

Zz Seducers

. *We kissed under moon Pox of stars grew flowering Nightshade of her lips*

4

We kissed under moon . . . Pox of stars grew flowering, . . . Nightshade of her lips.

0

Nov 24, 2014

Nov 24, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC

ormond

Haiku ( seducers )

We kissed under moon . . . Pox of stars grew flowering, . . . Nightshade of her lips.

3

He who walks Will find that The stinging summer sun Leads the loved ones Over clear waters. Beneath elegant Palm trees That when time to Take a break It creates a shade Like no other. The perfect place to sit, Only when the flourishing Mountains casts a shadow On the other side of The extensive range. Even so, it’s such a Beautiful place to sit. More when the made Of fat and skinny and Happy and sad and Continuous life Is there to observe The sunset that Changes the sapphire Blues to flaming oranges Ready to be taught by The twilights of the Most unfortunate and The seducers. A dark tunnel Where the Young Women jog And the cows And the pigs Have tasted blood And the morning sun Is taking a little Longer to come up. Tunnel that can only Be traverse with Experience and Burning cinnamon. And oh, evil one. The night will cast an Eternal veil. And what an enormous, And eternal night this is. What a lonely night. And evil one, Between the burning sea And the pale morning, You’ll find the quiet Of husks and dead fish, Trembling foam of Retreating waters, And messages in bottles Never read before. And silence will come Wrapped in a blanket, Galloping on beach ***** And flying machines that Leave faster than they go. It’ll cure the absence of warmth While the days, the months, The time passes by. The morning will come, Brandishing celestial blood, Turning the sea ablaze. To let you know, That you have escaped Once more.

0

Nov 20, 2023

Nov 20, 2023 at 11:16 AM UTC

DaniJustDani

Long nights, and pale mornings.

He who walks Will find that The stinging summer sun Leads the loved ones Over clear waters. Beneath elegant Palm trees That when time to Take a break It creates a shade Like no other. The perfect place to sit, Only when the flourishing Mountains casts a shadow On the other side of The extensive range. Even so, it’s such a Beautiful place to sit. More when the made Of fat and skinny and Happy and sad and Continuous life Is there to observe The sunset that Changes the sapphire Blues to flaming oranges Ready to be taught by The twilights of the Most unfortunate and The seducers. A dark tunnel Where the Young Women jog And the cows And the pigs Have tasted blood And the morning sun Is taking a little Longer to come up. Tunnel that can only Be traverse with Experience and Burning cinnamon. And oh, evil one. The night will cast an Eternal veil. And what an enormous, And eternal night this is. What a lonely night. And evil one, Between the burning sea And the pale morning, You’ll find the quiet Of husks and dead fish, Trembling foam of Retreating waters, And messages in bottles Never read before. And silence will come Wrapped in a blanket, Galloping on beach ***** And flying machines that Leave faster than they go. It’ll cure the absence of warmth While the days, the months, The time passes by. The morning will come, Brandishing celestial blood, Turning the sea ablaze. To let you know, That you have escaped Once more.

74

Salient Cannibal i am famous example: a cuckold of light i've lamed conductors maimed seducers and committed a variety of sadness please lay deep in me the confederacy of photo copy girl. fin.

0

Dec 2, 2016

Dec 2, 2016 at 1:59 AM UTC

asha-seriozhenka

Salient Cannibal

Salient Cannibal i am famous example: a cuckold of light i've lamed conductors maimed seducers and committed a variety of sadness please lay deep in me the confederacy of photo copy girl. fin.

9

She ***** the sweetness of lust like taste of blood. Death hold grips can describes her hugs. They fall into a web, like the ones who finder. And now there all are hers, the Black Widow Spider. lured in the dark of her legs, sleek and black. Disregard the warning sign, Red hidden down the curve of her back. Fall into her into her mesmerize trap, Queen of seducers. lust at first sight waiting to turn hearts into stone like medusa. Dangerously 50 shades of black, which side of her they want? Games on your weakness, Russian Roulettes gun. Blindsided by her deceit, tangled in webs of her power. And now she feeds on their thoughts, like a brain ******* vampire. The beauty of her web, is persuasion of her femininity. Her birth is to gain your soul and her winning is her fertility. Because she will feed their starvation of love, and innocently build their esteem with everything she can think of. Create *** beyond their wildest fantasies. Drive them wild, begging for another hit down on their knees. Thriving off the lost of emotions, dominating feelings with full control. Then will leave them hanging when the festivities get all old. But the ones she scared will never understand. That the cuts from their abuser was caused by past life of a sexually abusive man. Is the price they pay worth their time?In the end to be hurt by a beautifully seductive mind. To be caught in the webs of a warm, wet place and lose a hold. Of Reality that this girl is pure selfish, untrustworthy and devilishly cold. foolishly loosing themselves in her body, While she’s alive for the fun but in reality is unattached with her body,a defense for untouchable, if they would only listen to whispers in the night, her body sings. To cope with her pain, A deaf man chooses not to hear this melody. The itsy bitsy spider, went up the waterspout, Down came her fangs and dried, his lonely heart out. Out comes the sun and hides her heart of pain, so the itsy bitsy spider waits to eats another one again. Black Widows Game

0

Jan 22, 2016

Jan 22, 2016 at 5:57 PM UTC

Purplelady

Black Widows Game

She ***** the sweetness of lust like taste of blood. Death hold grips can describes her hugs. They fall into a web, like the ones who finder. And now there all are hers, the Black Widow Spider. lured in the dark of her legs, sleek and black. Disregard the warning sign, Red hidden down the curve of her back. Fall into her into her mesmerize trap, Queen of seducers. lust at first sight waiting to turn hearts into stone like medusa. Dangerously 50 shades of black, which side of her they want? Games on your weakness, Russian Roulettes gun. Blindsided by her deceit, tangled in webs of her power. And now she feeds on their thoughts, like a brain ******* vampire. The beauty of her web, is persuasion of her femininity. Her birth is to gain your soul and her winning is her fertility. Because she will feed their starvation of love, and innocently build their esteem with everything she can think of. Create *** beyond their wildest fantasies. Drive them wild, begging for another hit down on their knees. Thriving off the lost of emotions, dominating feelings with full control. Then will leave them hanging when the festivities get all old. But the ones she scared will never understand. That the cuts from their abuser was caused by past life of a sexually abusive man. Is the price they pay worth their time?In the end to be hurt by a beautifully seductive mind. To be caught in the webs of a warm, wet place and lose a hold. Of Reality that this girl is pure selfish, untrustworthy and devilishly cold. foolishly loosing themselves in her body, While she’s alive for the fun but in reality is unattached with her body,a defense for untouchable, if they would only listen to whispers in the night, her body sings. To cope with her pain, A deaf man chooses not to hear this melody. The itsy bitsy spider, went up the waterspout, Down came her fangs and dried, his lonely heart out. Out comes the sun and hides her heart of pain, so the itsy bitsy spider waits to eats another one again. Black Widows Game

1

At a party, a gym, anywhere the lighting is dim. Along the shore, down in the subway, during an overnight stay. On Christmas morning, by the fire where she's warming... She is the hunted. Amidst war, conflict, and revolution, in the confessional during absolution. For retribution or initiation, after a movie premiere's celebration. In the pool, the jacuzzi, when drugged and woozy... She is the hunted. When did the female species become a personal plaything? An implicit right of lords, masters, and kings? A gratification tool to sadists & seducers, ego-fed athletes, even film producers? She is the hunted... in this cathedral of misogyny, an unholy ground where hands can never come clean. At what age, Malusha, did your little boy become a ******

0

Dec 5, 2019

Dec 5, 2019 at 5:32 PM UTC

Carlo-C-Gomez

Hunting Ground

At a party, a gym, anywhere the lighting is dim. Along the shore, down in the subway, during an overnight stay. On Christmas morning, by the fire where she's warming... She is the hunted. Amidst war, conflict, and revolution, in the confessional during absolution. For retribution or initiation, after a movie premiere's celebration. In the pool, the jacuzzi, when drugged and woozy... She is the hunted. When did the female species become a personal plaything? An implicit right of lords, masters, and kings? A gratification tool to sadists & seducers, ego-fed athletes, even film producers? She is the hunted... in this cathedral of misogyny, an unholy ground where hands can never come clean. At what age, Malusha, did your little boy become a ******

25

POEM - PAPER FILES-II Clumps of paper around my nest What can be worse, and what is best? No one’ll ever think me a genius They think I’m just a total fanabulistus. Files and records dwell in our living space We'll be in a turmoil until most are erased Much good info is contained here. Files of many - you have no idea! The Doomsday Clock now spins toward its close Around the world one sees many foes Rumors of war are rumors no more Papers, files, all over the floor! Learning new words, many new laws The most recent gives me much pause Transhumanism - Do check it on Google This’ll surely leave your head in a noodle! People live in my files all day long I have poets, paupers, authors, Nazis, a full throng I’ve got murderers, seducers, files of White Magic, These tales, including emails, reveal much that is tragic. Scandals abound to be found in my files Even histories of those known very well They’ve traveled a long way from us Surely, now, dwelling in Hell. Genealogy takes much space in 4-drawer files The information stretches for miles and miles Why must I collect dead dust no one sees? Would that I toss ’em all, just like dead leaves. Reading does nothing but make me write Why o why can’t I finish this fight? I create more as I go along. Never, never, time for a song. Writing gets better, but quite like a curse Everything's quite good, but could get much worse The Writer's game is not very cozy Sometimes it appears to be pretty ****** lousy The hall and bedroom, closets and all Never see Light - Spring, Summer + Fall Boxes, old clothing, day/night sight unseen Time to get over it, and clean, clean clean! Carol Rae Bradford-Amended 5:17 a.m. Sunday, 4:00-4:34 a.m. Nov. 23, 2014

0

Apr 25, 2015

Apr 25, 2015 at 7:40 AM UTC

cbrad4334

POEM - PAPER FILES-II

POEM - PAPER FILES-II Clumps of paper around my nest What can be worse, and what is best? No one’ll ever think me a genius They think I’m just a total fanabulistus. Files and records dwell in our living space We'll be in a turmoil until most are erased Much good info is contained here. Files of many - you have no idea! The Doomsday Clock now spins toward its close Around the world one sees many foes Rumors of war are rumors no more Papers, files, all over the floor! Learning new words, many new laws The most recent gives me much pause Transhumanism - Do check it on Google This’ll surely leave your head in a noodle! People live in my files all day long I have poets, paupers, authors, Nazis, a full throng I’ve got murderers, seducers, files of White Magic, These tales, including emails, reveal much that is tragic. Scandals abound to be found in my files Even histories of those known very well They’ve traveled a long way from us Surely, now, dwelling in Hell. Genealogy takes much space in 4-drawer files The information stretches for miles and miles Why must I collect dead dust no one sees? Would that I toss ’em all, just like dead leaves. Reading does nothing but make me write Why o why can’t I finish this fight? I create more as I go along. Never, never, time for a song. Writing gets better, but quite like a curse Everything's quite good, but could get much worse The Writer's game is not very cozy Sometimes it appears to be pretty ****** lousy The hall and bedroom, closets and all Never see Light - Spring, Summer + Fall Boxes, old clothing, day/night sight unseen Time to get over it, and clean, clean clean! Carol Rae Bradford-Amended 5:17 a.m. Sunday, 4:00-4:34 a.m. Nov. 23, 2014

43

First Line: The Most Popular Words on HP those selected below, are copied from the current top line of the Words section on HP, which I believe, represent the most often used/“popular” words on the site. love time heart life eyes feel day mind night things left find long when I find love next time, and the next time, the heart that has powered this life, will avoid the trapping eyes that initialize the first feel, the first contact, those things that are the mind seducers, whether, one, if by day two, if by night which is it? love is blind, but we all dream of love at first sight! which’s why, I’ve left the world of find, long ago, deciding that love will find me in its own peculiar time, way, method, until that occurs, dreaming of that happenstance will inspire a poem of the day, each day, until time postpones either my heart or mind, my senses, or the search is concluded, which will most likely be through my jewels, my very own words

0

Sep 28, 2019

Sep 28, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC

nat-lipstadt

First Line: The Most Popular Words on HP

First Line: The Most Popular Words on HP those selected below, are copied from the current top line of the Words section on HP, which I believe, represent the most often used/“popular” words on the site. love time heart life eyes feel day mind night things left find long when I find love next time, and the next time, the heart that has powered this life, will avoid the trapping eyes that initialize the first feel, the first contact, those things that are the mind seducers, whether, one, if by day two, if by night which is it? love is blind, but we all dream of love at first sight! which’s why, I’ve left the world of find, long ago, deciding that love will find me in its own peculiar time, way, method, until that occurs, dreaming of that happenstance will inspire a poem of the day, each day, until time postpones either my heart or mind, my senses, or the search is concluded, which will most likely be through my jewels, my very own words

22

I remember all the "chosen ones" All the ones that caught my eyes I recall all of the villains And the classic "nice guys" I remember all the Romeos The seducers and wooers alike I knew all the "we're just friends" And "love you like a brother" types I remember all the gentlemen The ones who held the door I'm branded by the cretins though And made of me a ***** I remember so many of the talking boys The ones who needed to vent They'd knew I never slept at night And converse until the blackness was spent I remember all the heartbreakers And those few that never left The randoms that came sneaking in The ones who thought they knew best I remember the wishful thinking And the craving to catch your eyes I acknowledge the reluctance of letting you go And at times I never tried I remember the lessons And I repeat the mistakes There're so many fish in the sea And I only have a lake Please remember that I loved you Or I did the best that I could do And if there's a part of you remembers me Just know my memory is perfect too

0

Sep 13, 2016

Sep 13, 2016 at 1:00 AM UTC

kida-price

I remember

I remember all the "chosen ones" All the ones that caught my eyes I recall all of the villains And the classic "nice guys" I remember all the Romeos The seducers and wooers alike I knew all the "we're just friends" And "love you like a brother" types I remember all the gentlemen The ones who held the door I'm branded by the cretins though And made of me a ***** I remember so many of the talking boys The ones who needed to vent They'd knew I never slept at night And converse until the blackness was spent I remember all the heartbreakers And those few that never left The randoms that came sneaking in The ones who thought they knew best I remember the wishful thinking And the craving to catch your eyes I acknowledge the reluctance of letting you go And at times I never tried I remember the lessons And I repeat the mistakes There're so many fish in the sea And I only have a lake Please remember that I loved you Or I did the best that I could do And if there's a part of you remembers me Just know my memory is perfect too

32

Swell, waving like a swell, a comic sail in our wind-saturated body is the privilege: Prosperity! Make-up, suddenly deliberate naivety between adult chirps Dreamland deception sets a fur trap! Anyone can be hit by an overbearing and light-hearted blow, yet the true Man is the one who is hurt! In the midst of everyday mother-daughter worries, the one who always looks at the future can think of the worries! He who hides, who does not breed usurers in a purposeful way from Life himself, whose unpaid debts remain! Child-mothers sin with incubator-angels for their inaction, dreading to recognize in the open gates of the Universe the consequences and blood offense if the acute, hot macho guy does not hide in bed with them for the first night of immortality and shame! How many angel deposits are made for them, their parents' sins are also properly repaid: heirs to the throne are irresponsible, so they are born into the swamp! Why don't Alamuszi try to make bronze-brown-stained, **** bombshell goddesses with anyone, when they know and feel that they may once be the most apt family fathers?! The trick that counts all the tricks of modern seducers is just what a narrow runway can advertise alone! - Sweating in the body armor is intentionally avoided s Prohibited! The universal distillation of oblivion may not be so easy! All the top best of stylists are there just to disguise the sacred truth: sleepless eye-stars would prefer to sleep rather than the vigilant desire of dazzling spotlights! - The juicy fruit offered on a tray is carried by the mother's breast and yet by a death-scared little girl

0

Apr 14, 2021

Apr 14, 2021 at 1:59 AM UTC

Tasi83

Children's games

Swell, waving like a swell, a comic sail in our wind-saturated body is the privilege: Prosperity! Make-up, suddenly deliberate naivety between adult chirps Dreamland deception sets a fur trap! Anyone can be hit by an overbearing and light-hearted blow, yet the true Man is the one who is hurt! In the midst of everyday mother-daughter worries, the one who always looks at the future can think of the worries! He who hides, who does not breed usurers in a purposeful way from Life himself, whose unpaid debts remain! Child-mothers sin with incubator-angels for their inaction, dreading to recognize in the open gates of the Universe the consequences and blood offense if the acute, hot macho guy does not hide in bed with them for the first night of immortality and shame! How many angel deposits are made for them, their parents' sins are also properly repaid: heirs to the throne are irresponsible, so they are born into the swamp! Why don't Alamuszi try to make bronze-brown-stained, **** bombshell goddesses with anyone, when they know and feel that they may once be the most apt family fathers?! The trick that counts all the tricks of modern seducers is just what a narrow runway can advertise alone! - Sweating in the body armor is intentionally avoided s Prohibited! The universal distillation of oblivion may not be so easy! All the top best of stylists are there just to disguise the sacred truth: sleepless eye-stars would prefer to sleep rather than the vigilant desire of dazzling spotlights! - The juicy fruit offered on a tray is carried by the mother's breast and yet by a death-scared little girl

4

Seducers of the sky above, Drinkers of the salty sea, Oh, possessors of the earth below, How I wish I never existed, How I wish the Gods never existed, You are gradually fading away the Splendid beauty of my true existence, Yes, the tornadoes and the hurricanes And the thunderclap and the fire Shall always accompany your existence, Oh yes, I am about to express My distaste for your order, The beautiful part of my nature Have you consciously eroded, But the thunder-Gods shall surely Deal with you relentlessly, Hmm, everyone that knows your works Shall have a nasty story to tell your kind, For your passion for wealth and excellence Has imprison my wretched soul And has divided my living bones, Mother earth has no more pleasure in you, Before your unforgiving existence, Truly, I knew the story of the Old one and his nature, Wait and experience my mighty right arm, Always shall you seek My indefinite destruction, Always shall I seek indefinite Vengeance on your children’s children, Unfortunately, it is ignorance that Makes the rat attack the cat. © PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI Email: [email protected]

0

Apr 8, 2013

Apr 8, 2013 at 6:20 AM UTC

prince-anin-agyei

TRUE VENGANCE

Seducers of the sky above, Drinkers of the salty sea, Oh, possessors of the earth below, How I wish I never existed, How I wish the Gods never existed, You are gradually fading away the Splendid beauty of my true existence, Yes, the tornadoes and the hurricanes And the thunderclap and the fire Shall always accompany your existence, Oh yes, I am about to express My distaste for your order, The beautiful part of my nature Have you consciously eroded, But the thunder-Gods shall surely Deal with you relentlessly, Hmm, everyone that knows your works Shall have a nasty story to tell your kind, For your passion for wealth and excellence Has imprison my wretched soul And has divided my living bones, Mother earth has no more pleasure in you, Before your unforgiving existence, Truly, I knew the story of the Old one and his nature, Wait and experience my mighty right arm, Always shall you seek My indefinite destruction, Always shall I seek indefinite Vengeance on your children’s children, Unfortunately, it is ignorance that Makes the rat attack the cat. © PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI Email: [email protected]

34

The great lines, you quote, don't stir me... you know my vexation, with the twinkling lights, that don't move. The colors, don't mix... I move from death to death, to understand life, and fail miserably. The body does not open. Seducers ready to jump for a bite, to tear off my columns, my domes. Yes, I give, give away my precious heart, time, my infallible attention to heal you.I don't demand any dough, remaining in penury, do not ask for the factors. My arithmetic has failed. Cannot solve the puzzles lost in maze of juggleries. It was your world. I am living at a binary planet, scarcely habitable. Yet I am happy in myself looking at the grains of sand on my hands. You know, you cannot write like me... like me.

0

Sep 27, 2016

Sep 27, 2016 at 11:31 PM UTC

satsih-verma

Quizzing

The great lines, you quote, don't stir me... you know my vexation, with the twinkling lights, that don't move. The colors, don't mix... I move from death to death, to understand life, and fail miserably. The body does not open. Seducers ready to jump for a bite, to tear off my columns, my domes. Yes, I give, give away my precious heart, time, my infallible attention to heal you.I don't demand any dough, remaining in penury, do not ask for the factors. My arithmetic has failed. Cannot solve the puzzles lost in maze of juggleries. It was your world. I am living at a binary planet, scarcely habitable. Yet I am happy in myself looking at the grains of sand on my hands. You know, you cannot write like me... like me.

22

So Just Like My Namesake... In... “ The Great Escape “... I’m The King of... The Cooler... !!!!! Kinda Like... " Rick The Ruler ".... A TRUE School Type Mover... TOP NOTCH Rhyme Producer... !!! With Tunes That Are Cooler... Than McQueen In His Scenes... As Yup... " Virgil Hiltz "... Showing Nazis I CHILL... When They Try To Instil... Ideals That Spread War... Where Division’s The Cause... Because I Stay COOLER... Than Yes... " Ferris Bueller’ ".... !!! When It Comes To These Tutors... Whose Thoughts Should Be..... ....... NEUTERED....... !!!!! That’s Right NULLIFIED.... !!!!! Just Like Norton’s Guy.... And American Types.... Whose Actions DEFY.... REJECTION of FIGHTS... Because They’re Still TIED.... To... SUPREMACIST Minds.... !!!!!! Whose Vibe’s To *** - ide... Based Upon Colour Lines... !?! While I Deal In Vibes.... Where Tribes UNIFY... !!!!! No Matter What Colour... Or **** They STAND BY... !!! Because I Am COOLER.... Than... Racist Wrongdoers... !!!!! I Move With MORE Coolness... Than Those Who Pull Shooters... !!!! ... MILITANT Armies.... Like Those In Zimbabwe... Now OUSTING Mugabe... !!!!! Political Parties..... Who DO NOT Move Calmly... !!! So I’m Cooler Than THEM... !!!!! These Government Heads... Who Cause Heads PROBLEMS... !!! As Well As... DISTRESS... !!!!! Because They Use POWER... !!! To Use Cladding That Showers... Like... EXPLOSIVE Gunpowder... !!! So I’m COOLER Than Towers.... That In Just A Few Hours... !!!!!!!! Became HOTTER Than Plotters... Whose Movements Get HOTTER... Than.... SUICIDE BOMBERS... !!!!! I’m The COOLEST of Jotters... About All This NONSENSE.... !!! ABUSERS Whose Movements... HOT UP... Certain Collars... !!!!! Who Took Time To... HOLLA'... About How They BOTHERED... ?!? Producers And Movers.... Who Seem To NEED... “ Coolers “... !!!?!!! To CONTROL Their LOOSENESS... !!!!! However Some Coolness... Is NEEDED Like Shrewdness... When It Comes To The CLAIMS... That Are Made Nowadays... ... SO MANY Games... !!! That People Now Play... !!!!! The Type That Have RACKETS... And Strings That Pull Jackets... !!! On Puppets And Slaves... Who Seem To Get Brave.... When It’s LATE In The day.... !!!!! To REFUTERS I Say... CALM DOWN Now Okay... !!! I Suggest You Stay COOLER... Than London’s Commuters... When TERROR Becomes.... What HITS It’s Stations... !!!!!! Or Cooler Than COUGARS... Who Move Like SEDUCERS... When Their ONLY Future... Is *** With OLD Suitors ... Boozers And Schmoozers'... !!! Whose ***** LOST IT’s Rooster.... !?!?! So NEEDS To Use BOOSTERS... Like..... ****** Users.... !!!!!! As I Said... This Poem... Should PROVE I’m NO LOSER... !!!!! I’m Just A Producer... of Rhymes That Are Shrewder... Than SCOOTER Type Looters... !!!!! Who’s... SICKER Than TUMOURS... !!!!! And Like... " Steve McQueen "... When It Comes To Rhyme Schemes... Don’t Let The Rest FOOL YA.... !!!!! I’m THE KING of What’s... ........ “ COOLER “.......

0

Jun 9, 2021

Jun 9, 2021 at 1:09 AM UTC

big-virge

'Cooler' ... A Poem written by Big Virge 20/11/2017

So Just Like My Namesake... In... “ The Great Escape “... I’m The King of... The Cooler... !!!!! Kinda Like... " Rick The Ruler ".... A TRUE School Type Mover... TOP NOTCH Rhyme Producer... !!! With Tunes That Are Cooler... Than McQueen In His Scenes... As Yup... " Virgil Hiltz "... Showing Nazis I CHILL... When They Try To Instil... Ideals That Spread War... Where Division’s The Cause... Because I Stay COOLER... Than Yes... " Ferris Bueller’ ".... !!! When It Comes To These Tutors... Whose Thoughts Should Be..... ....... NEUTERED....... !!!!! That’s Right NULLIFIED.... !!!!! Just Like Norton’s Guy.... And American Types.... Whose Actions DEFY.... REJECTION of FIGHTS... Because They’re Still TIED.... To... SUPREMACIST Minds.... !!!!!! Whose Vibe’s To *** - ide... Based Upon Colour Lines... !?! While I Deal In Vibes.... Where Tribes UNIFY... !!!!! No Matter What Colour... Or **** They STAND BY... !!! Because I Am COOLER.... Than... Racist Wrongdoers... !!!!! I Move With MORE Coolness... Than Those Who Pull Shooters... !!!! ... MILITANT Armies.... Like Those In Zimbabwe... Now OUSTING Mugabe... !!!!! Political Parties..... Who DO NOT Move Calmly... !!! So I’m Cooler Than THEM... !!!!! These Government Heads... Who Cause Heads PROBLEMS... !!! As Well As... DISTRESS... !!!!! Because They Use POWER... !!! To Use Cladding That Showers... Like... EXPLOSIVE Gunpowder... !!! So I’m COOLER Than Towers.... That In Just A Few Hours... !!!!!!!! Became HOTTER Than Plotters... Whose Movements Get HOTTER... Than.... SUICIDE BOMBERS... !!!!! I’m The COOLEST of Jotters... About All This NONSENSE.... !!! ABUSERS Whose Movements... HOT UP... Certain Collars... !!!!! Who Took Time To... HOLLA'... About How They BOTHERED... ?!? Producers And Movers.... Who Seem To NEED... “ Coolers “... !!!?!!! To CONTROL Their LOOSENESS... !!!!! However Some Coolness... Is NEEDED Like Shrewdness... When It Comes To The CLAIMS... That Are Made Nowadays... ... SO MANY Games... !!! That People Now Play... !!!!! The Type That Have RACKETS... And Strings That Pull Jackets... !!! On Puppets And Slaves... Who Seem To Get Brave.... When It’s LATE In The day.... !!!!! To REFUTERS I Say... CALM DOWN Now Okay... !!! I Suggest You Stay COOLER... Than London’s Commuters... When TERROR Becomes.... What HITS It’s Stations... !!!!!! Or Cooler Than COUGARS... Who Move Like SEDUCERS... When Their ONLY Future... Is *** With OLD Suitors ... Boozers And Schmoozers'... !!! Whose ***** LOST IT’s Rooster.... !?!?! So NEEDS To Use BOOSTERS... Like..... ****** Users.... !!!!!! As I Said... This Poem... Should PROVE I’m NO LOSER... !!!!! I’m Just A Producer... of Rhymes That Are Shrewder... Than SCOOTER Type Looters... !!!!! Who’s... SICKER Than TUMOURS... !!!!! And Like... " Steve McQueen "... When It Comes To Rhyme Schemes... Don’t Let The Rest FOOL YA.... !!!!! I’m THE KING of What’s... ........ “ COOLER “.......

97