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"sily" poems
i walked the boulevard i saw a ***** child skating on noisy wheels of joy pathetic dress fluttering behind her a mothermonster with red grumbling face cluttered in pursuit pleasantly elephantine while nearby the father a thick cheerful man with majestic bulbous lips and forlorn piggish hands joked to a girlish ***** with busy rhythmic mouth and sily purple eyelids of how she was with child
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I Walked The Boulevard
Holy Crap, They Sold My Name! No big deal, your name, your email, bought n' sold daily, Like a baseball card, your picture and vital stats are on the internet, Your credit card in the fine print tells you they love you much, But the data they collect, might get credited to such and such. You're fair game if your sign up for anything. Now I know I am getting on in years, Tho spry rhymes with die, I flatly deny Any notion that My great beyond is just around the corner! But Holy Crap, They Sold My Name! Got a color brochure Suggesting that when my travels are over, A nice place to rest my head might be St. Michael's Cemetery. St. Michael's Cemetery 7202 Astoria Blvd, East Elmhurst (718) 278-3240 Friday hours 7:00 am–5:00 pm In case you want to check it out too... Tho I live not in the Borough of Queens County, My zip code but a hop, skip and jump away, The cemetery adjacent to the Grand Central Parkway Which is actually quite thoughtful of The mass marketer who dreamed up this scheme (And got paid a plentiful amount of bounty). My kids could wave as they drive by, On the way to LaGuardia or JFK, (airports) And say, guilt free, they visit me regularly! Sadly, their plot foiled, I will be buried in New Jersey soil, Near to my pop, who liked the Wide open spaces of suburbia And shopping on Route 4, Where the selection is great And there is no sales tax. But Holy Crap, They Sold My Name, And I am now target marketed, Niched, pretty soon the boys from AARP Will come calling, reminding me of the gap Tween Medicare and the poor house! Ok ok,  grow up you say, tho your hair is full, And not even a hint of baldness shines forth, Nonetheless, its color is zebra striped gray, And when someone says they got my back, I think, please, please take it and keep it.... Oh yeah, Dear St. Mikes You might ask for some of your money back, Cause this sily scribe is a member of the tribe, Some call "those ***** (hint: it rhymes with Mikes)," It starts with K and ends in yikes! But thanks for thinking of me anyway.
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May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
Holy Crap, They Sold My Name!
Holy Crap, They Sold My Name! No big deal, your name, your email, bought n' sold daily, Like a baseball card, your picture and vital stats are on the internet, Your credit card in the fine print tells you they love you much, But the data they collect, might get credited to such and such. You're fair game if your sign up for anything. Now I know I am getting on in years, Tho spry rhymes with die, I flatly deny Any notion that My great beyond is just around the corner! But Holy Crap, They Sold My Name! Got a color brochure Suggesting that when my travels are over, A nice place to rest my head might be St. Michael's Cemetery. St. Michael's Cemetery 7202 Astoria Blvd, East Elmhurst (718) 278-3240 Friday hours 7:00 am–5:00 pm In case you want to check it out too... Tho I live not in the Borough of Queens County, My zip code but a hop, skip and jump away, The cemetery adjacent to the Grand Central Parkway Which is actually quite thoughtful of The mass marketer who dreamed up this scheme (And got paid a plentiful amount of bounty). My kids could wave as they drive by, On the way to LaGuardia or JFK, (airports) And say, guilt free, they visit me regularly! Sadly, their plot foiled, I will be buried in New Jersey soil, Near to my pop, who liked the Wide open spaces of suburbia And shopping on Route 4, Where the selection is great And there is no sales tax. But Holy Crap, They Sold My Name, And I am now target marketed, Niched, pretty soon the boys from AARP Will come calling, reminding me of the gap Tween Medicare and the poor house! Ok ok,  grow up you say, tho your hair is full, And not even a hint of baldness shines forth, Nonetheless, its color is zebra striped gray, And when someone says they got my back, I think, please, please take it and keep it.... Oh yeah, Dear St. Mikes You might ask for some of your money back, Cause this sily scribe is a member of the tribe, Some call "those ***** (hint: it rhymes with Mikes)," It starts with K and ends in yikes! But thanks for thinking of me anyway.
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Going through the emotions I love you I love you not She loves me she loves me not Innocent flowers Fallen victim to my cruel Confusions Are we friends or we not Are we friends or we more I wonder if friends Say I love you like the way you do Petals scattered around My feet some drifting with the wind Maybe you love me Perhaps if I told you, You would laugh Just friends She loves me she love me not You love me you love me not They are times when it seemed That you do The slight stolen glance That stole more than it intended My heart When you smiled like a half moon On twilight sky in the country side My breath With your sily laugh that whispered Like sweet grass anchored on the mountain face My doubts When you speak your mind With such passion and chaos That challenged my sanity Caught between my love for you And our friendship More than friends perhaps, Or are we just friends Unspoken words fill my mouth Like grandma's cooking At Chrisman dinners Starved of oxygen Unable to bring them to life. She loves me she loves me not Just friends I hope not.
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Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 11:28 PM UTC
Going through the emotions
Come swim into my morning coffee So I could taste you I could smell you and my soul would awake from its sleep Come sit in the pocket of my jeans let me carry you around wherever I go Come to me I will hold you in my arms for hours I will make you feel better Come, read books with me listen to my favourite songs Come, take me to movie theatres let us escape to an imaginary world Come, hold my hand give me strength when I need it the most Come, look into my eyes and just smile Come, sit with me on the roof Let me tell you all the things that make me happy Come, let's take silly pictures and keep them safe in our memories Come, we will visit museums together and stare at random paintings Come we'll go to toy stores act like children and remember ou sily childhood Come we'll wear fancy clothes and act like adults Come without a warning without a sign Come to me Come to my mind Come whenever you want Come now, come tomorrow Come to my dreams Come everyday Come once in a week
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Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 11:28 PM UTC
Come to me