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"sizzled" poems
‘To bed! To bed!’ Said Sleepy-head; ‘Tarry awhile,’ said Slow; ‘Put on the pan,’ Said Greedy Nan; ‘We'll sup before we go.’ (from Mother Goose) They sat at the kitchen table as The candle flickered low, And Greedy Nan put on the pan To indulge her sister, Slow, While Sleepy Weepy Annabelle Blotted her book with tears, And thought of her Beau from long ago Who she hadn’t seen for years. ‘Why doesn’t Roger notice me, Why doesn’t Alan Dell? I’m wearing the dress cut low for me And I’ve hitched my skirt as well. I’ve a pretty turn to my ankle, so You’d think it would drive them wild.’ ‘But men are a mystery,’ said Slow, ‘And Alan Dell’s a child.’ While over the pan stood Greedy Nan, Was cracking a turkey’s egg, A lump of yeast and a slice of beast And a single spider’s leg. With a wing of bat and an ounce of fat And a toe of frog for the spell, She needed to turn her sister off From her crush on Alan Dell. For Greedy Nan was the eldest girl And would have to marry first, The other two would wait in the queue Or their fortunes be reversed, The omelette sizzled, and in the pan She added before they saw, A piece of some Devil’s Trumpet plant For the mating game meant war. She sliced the omelette into half And she served them up a piece, ‘Didn’t you want?’ said Annabelle But Slow enjoyed the feast. ‘I’m not that terribly hungry now I’ve cooked it up in the pan, I think I’ll just have a slice of bread,’ Said the scheming Greedy Nan. They finished up and they sat awhile, And they mused about their fate, ‘If Greedy Nan isn’t married soon, For us it will be too late.’ ‘I’ve set my sights on a country squire,’ Said Nan, without a blink, Lured them away from her secret fire To confuse what they might think. ‘The room is woozy, spinning around, I’d better get me to bed,’ Said Annabelle, while Slow with a frown Saw Dwarves dancing in her head. But Greedy Nan was cleaning the pan To clear all signs of the spell, Her back was turned to her sisters, spurned For the sake of Alan Dell. And when he came in the morning Greedy Nan was sat by the door, While Annabelle and her sister Slow Were lying dead on the floor, ‘I didn’t mean it to **** them, Al, It was only a simple spell,’ But as he cuffed and led her away He frowned, did Alan Dell. David Lewis Paget
0
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 8:01 PM UTC
To Bed! To Bed!
‘To bed! To bed!’ Said Sleepy-head; ‘Tarry awhile,’ said Slow; ‘Put on the pan,’ Said Greedy Nan; ‘We'll sup before we go.’ (from Mother Goose) They sat at the kitchen table as The candle flickered low, And Greedy Nan put on the pan To indulge her sister, Slow, While Sleepy Weepy Annabelle Blotted her book with tears, And thought of her Beau from long ago Who she hadn’t seen for years. ‘Why doesn’t Roger notice me, Why doesn’t Alan Dell? I’m wearing the dress cut low for me And I’ve hitched my skirt as well. I’ve a pretty turn to my ankle, so You’d think it would drive them wild.’ ‘But men are a mystery,’ said Slow, ‘And Alan Dell’s a child.’ While over the pan stood Greedy Nan, Was cracking a turkey’s egg, A lump of yeast and a slice of beast And a single spider’s leg. With a wing of bat and an ounce of fat And a toe of frog for the spell, She needed to turn her sister off From her crush on Alan Dell. For Greedy Nan was the eldest girl And would have to marry first, The other two would wait in the queue Or their fortunes be reversed, The omelette sizzled, and in the pan She added before they saw, A piece of some Devil’s Trumpet plant For the mating game meant war. She sliced the omelette into half And she served them up a piece, ‘Didn’t you want?’ said Annabelle But Slow enjoyed the feast. ‘I’m not that terribly hungry now I’ve cooked it up in the pan, I think I’ll just have a slice of bread,’ Said the scheming Greedy Nan. They finished up and they sat awhile, And they mused about their fate, ‘If Greedy Nan isn’t married soon, For us it will be too late.’ ‘I’ve set my sights on a country squire,’ Said Nan, without a blink, Lured them away from her secret fire To confuse what they might think. ‘The room is woozy, spinning around, I’d better get me to bed,’ Said Annabelle, while Slow with a frown Saw Dwarves dancing in her head. But Greedy Nan was cleaning the pan To clear all signs of the spell, Her back was turned to her sisters, spurned For the sake of Alan Dell. And when he came in the morning Greedy Nan was sat by the door, While Annabelle and her sister Slow Were lying dead on the floor, ‘I didn’t mean it to **** them, Al, It was only a simple spell,’ But as he cuffed and led her away He frowned, did Alan Dell. David Lewis Paget
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72
# Each body part sizzled in pure pleasure in the blissed wake of your oral efforts brought forth the waves of rapturous delight...                                        Spurs poetic inspiration                                         in equal liberation                                         of desires to please.                                         Bodies transpose                                         in fluid motion                                         as brazen eyes meet.         Savor the voluptuous image before you.         Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo         before they roll to the back of your head. On all fours knees between your thighs tips of swollen breast caress your chest tasting fresh honey upon lips in a kiss.                                         Ripples of ardor                                          hover                                          by wet trails                                          of sensual kisses                                          suckling towards                                          the apex. Breathe in the slow motion pace that pulsates eagerness to the fore tumescing bulge leaking with anticipation of viscous lava.         Tickles of silken hair         against flesh edges closer. Emerging subtle grumbles in deep resonance betray your impatience . Hands tightly twine in tangled hair to maneuver the treasure hunt.                                          Licked lips pause                                          at the sight of fire                                          burning in                                          glazed gazes                                          before engulfing                                          the throbbing member. Plump ruby lips greet velvety texture in a slow deep dive. Tongue curls around the flavor in a dulcet embrace.                                          Moans release                                          as grip tightens                                          in my hair                                          settles the                                          rhythmic pace                                          to taste in an                                          oscillating dance.         The masculine aroma of heady musk         lingering there, arouses my appetite. With my enthusiasm attuned to your preferred rhythm suckling, slurping surface and dive in measured unison.                                           Break of breath                                           allows tongue                                           freedom to roam below,                                           licking, soft kissing                                           the tender hammock                                           of testicles.         Tongue and lips escalate higher         to mount another assaulting dive         deeper in the depths         of the cusp in cavity. Wetted fingers probe even lower circling superficially as gasp escapes your heavy breath; flaming eyes lock.                                           Finger dips in                                           with expert finesse                                           gorging hardened growth                                           within a wrapped hand. Thighs tighten with rocking grip. Head thrusts onward, drilling forward in each dive.         Salvia slips         fingers grip         lips dip Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity of volcanic eruption ...         HALTS         assault Pace retracts. Loosened lips kiss tip. *“Soon sweetheart, your time will *** inside me as we surrender to synergy."* #
0
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 7:51 AM UTC
love...................................lust (act II)
# Each body part sizzled in pure pleasure in the blissed wake of your oral efforts brought forth the waves of rapturous delight...                                        Spurs poetic inspiration                                         in equal liberation                                         of desires to please.                                         Bodies transpose                                         in fluid motion                                         as brazen eyes meet.         Savor the voluptuous image before you.         Indulge your eyes in my carnal halo         before they roll to the back of your head. On all fours knees between your thighs tips of swollen breast caress your chest tasting fresh honey upon lips in a kiss.                                         Ripples of ardor                                          hover                                          by wet trails                                          of sensual kisses                                          suckling towards                                          the apex. Breathe in the slow motion pace that pulsates eagerness to the fore tumescing bulge leaking with anticipation of viscous lava.         Tickles of silken hair         against flesh edges closer. Emerging subtle grumbles in deep resonance betray your impatience . Hands tightly twine in tangled hair to maneuver the treasure hunt.                                          Licked lips pause                                          at the sight of fire                                          burning in                                          glazed gazes                                          before engulfing                                          the throbbing member. Plump ruby lips greet velvety texture in a slow deep dive. Tongue curls around the flavor in a dulcet embrace.                                          Moans release                                          as grip tightens                                          in my hair                                          settles the                                          rhythmic pace                                          to taste in an                                          oscillating dance.         The masculine aroma of heady musk         lingering there, arouses my appetite. With my enthusiasm attuned to your preferred rhythm suckling, slurping surface and dive in measured unison.                                           Break of breath                                           allows tongue                                           freedom to roam below,                                           licking, soft kissing                                           the tender hammock                                           of testicles.         Tongue and lips escalate higher         to mount another assaulting dive         deeper in the depths         of the cusp in cavity. Wetted fingers probe even lower circling superficially as gasp escapes your heavy breath; flaming eyes lock.                                           Finger dips in                                           with expert finesse                                           gorging hardened growth                                           within a wrapped hand. Thighs tighten with rocking grip. Head thrusts onward, drilling forward in each dive.         Salvia slips         fingers grip         lips dip Engorged swell, flesh tightens in an intensity of volcanic eruption ...         HALTS         assault Pace retracts. Loosened lips kiss tip. *“Soon sweetheart, your time will *** inside me as we surrender to synergy."* #
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107
For the first time in ten years Both my parents were near Seated at a table together Not next to each other With my brother in the middle They sat as their food sizzled We will always be a family Though my mother has remarried I really need for times like this Family dinners are bliss
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Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 2:25 AM UTC
Family Dinner Is Bliss
*T'was a diamond     amidst stardust   struck of gypsy's     celestial adoration,   crashed and sizzled  'neath earthly intentions, ultimate shimmers      escalated upon        fiercely impetuous seas, each dappling     luminescent wave saturated of splendiferous galaxies,    bathed in heavens'       stellar effulgence, mesmerizing wanderlust's     magnificent indulgences*
0
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 12:37 PM UTC
Stardust Wanderlust
I'm pretty sure I dreamed you up Late last night while I was walking in the rain. I probably shouldn't tell you That nobody's ever been Proud To hold my hand In front of anyone else. It probably shouldn't mean something to me That your fingers felt natural laced with mine. Everybody has hands, Everybody can touch me. Ah, But few people can touch me And make me feel it. I could go on about your voice, The way you stumble and trip over your words That tugs at my heart in this deliciously painful way: I want to stop your confusion With a kiss. I could talk about your eyes, Sparkling, sparking a connection like a short circuit in my head That makes me have to stop and re-collect myself. With a ring of dark around the edges of the iris That I read somewhere makes somebody more beautiful, Scientifically. It didn't feel scientific. It felt gravitational. I could say lots about the way your hair Never falls the same way, And dances, reaching, in the breeze And somehow the image makes your eyes glow more. But your hands... Contact is a thing for me, you see. Skin. (Yours.) I love contact, and it's because No words get in the way of what you want to say. If you feel and wish, you need nothing more than a brushing of fingertips To say exactly what you mean to. I think you heard me, all night. I was saying everything I wasn't saying. You kept drifting back to me, your fingers on my knee Or resting in my palm, And I think that's really what did it, Honestly. What made me decide I don't care if this is a terrible idea (oh it surely is) I know I should probably make a better show of it- A token attempt, really, to be smart. But then again, when Does that ever work out? And your fingers twined with mine... I think you carry some kind of low level electric charge, And it sizzled through me every time your hand touched mine. I thought of breaking the connection a hundred times, Easier for you, Easier for me, But god, how impossible. I held the thought in my mind and it hurt me to consider. And so instead I pulled you a little closer And kept going. Outside walking in the rain early this morning, When the streets were paved in silver and gold from the sheen of the water That caught and held the soft glow of the streetlamps I thought, "Well **** this is going to keep me up nights, isn't it?" And it began immediately To pour.
0
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
The Statistical Probability of Being Struck By Lightning
I'm pretty sure I dreamed you up Late last night while I was walking in the rain. I probably shouldn't tell you That nobody's ever been Proud To hold my hand In front of anyone else. It probably shouldn't mean something to me That your fingers felt natural laced with mine. Everybody has hands, Everybody can touch me. Ah, But few people can touch me And make me feel it. I could go on about your voice, The way you stumble and trip over your words That tugs at my heart in this deliciously painful way: I want to stop your confusion With a kiss. I could talk about your eyes, Sparkling, sparking a connection like a short circuit in my head That makes me have to stop and re-collect myself. With a ring of dark around the edges of the iris That I read somewhere makes somebody more beautiful, Scientifically. It didn't feel scientific. It felt gravitational. I could say lots about the way your hair Never falls the same way, And dances, reaching, in the breeze And somehow the image makes your eyes glow more. But your hands... Contact is a thing for me, you see. Skin. (Yours.) I love contact, and it's because No words get in the way of what you want to say. If you feel and wish, you need nothing more than a brushing of fingertips To say exactly what you mean to. I think you heard me, all night. I was saying everything I wasn't saying. You kept drifting back to me, your fingers on my knee Or resting in my palm, And I think that's really what did it, Honestly. What made me decide I don't care if this is a terrible idea (oh it surely is) I know I should probably make a better show of it- A token attempt, really, to be smart. But then again, when Does that ever work out? And your fingers twined with mine... I think you carry some kind of low level electric charge, And it sizzled through me every time your hand touched mine. I thought of breaking the connection a hundred times, Easier for you, Easier for me, But god, how impossible. I held the thought in my mind and it hurt me to consider. And so instead I pulled you a little closer And kept going. Outside walking in the rain early this morning, When the streets were paved in silver and gold from the sheen of the water That caught and held the soft glow of the streetlamps I thought, "Well **** this is going to keep me up nights, isn't it?" And it began immediately To pour.
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69
You cannot fathom the dizzying elation I felt when your lips touched mine, brief though it was, drunk though I was Instantly sober, the electric shock Sizzled Light in my chest Whispered "Did that happen?" Breathe into my mouth, and I into yours As you test, taste, tenderly Tenderly, oh yes, hands slide up through your hair to cradle your skull Gently, gently pulling back, my lips dance across your dancing pulse Restraining myself, you are innocent Teeth nip, your breath catching in my ear You clutch me, unsure Do what you like Take the lead, explore Or follow me, and do as I do You know this dance, at least the steps Hips moving, searching At least the ache is similar Similar but new, racing faster through your body A moment of uncertainty, and I take your mouth to mine again Lay your hand upon my heart, calm now love Timidly, heart becomes breast Beneath your palm Explore away, love, not so different, yes? Fingers roam, new planes and rises to discover I inhale your scent, that is so very you Dizzy Would it help, to have a more familiar partner? "I know this song, these steps" He is waiting in the wings, if your desire is balance, old to new Or do you favor a private instruction? One-two-three... Find the rhythm, the beat is there, under your skin Glide upon it, upon me, into me, under me Palm to palm, lip to lip, hip to hip Listen to your breathing, revel in the new sound Bodies roll, pleasures roll Keep in time, savor it, love Sensations swell, crescendo Tempo in your veins slows as the music fades... Shall we dance?
0
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 4:23 PM UTC
Dance with Me
You cannot fathom the dizzying elation I felt when your lips touched mine, brief though it was, drunk though I was Instantly sober, the electric shock Sizzled Light in my chest Whispered "Did that happen?" Breathe into my mouth, and I into yours As you test, taste, tenderly Tenderly, oh yes, hands slide up through your hair to cradle your skull Gently, gently pulling back, my lips dance across your dancing pulse Restraining myself, you are innocent Teeth nip, your breath catching in my ear You clutch me, unsure Do what you like Take the lead, explore Or follow me, and do as I do You know this dance, at least the steps Hips moving, searching At least the ache is similar Similar but new, racing faster through your body A moment of uncertainty, and I take your mouth to mine again Lay your hand upon my heart, calm now love Timidly, heart becomes breast Beneath your palm Explore away, love, not so different, yes? Fingers roam, new planes and rises to discover I inhale your scent, that is so very you Dizzy Would it help, to have a more familiar partner? "I know this song, these steps" He is waiting in the wings, if your desire is balance, old to new Or do you favor a private instruction? One-two-three... Find the rhythm, the beat is there, under your skin Glide upon it, upon me, into me, under me Palm to palm, lip to lip, hip to hip Listen to your breathing, revel in the new sound Bodies roll, pleasures roll Keep in time, savor it, love Sensations swell, crescendo Tempo in your veins slows as the music fades... Shall we dance?
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41
your gusto ripping through my veins 'merican flags trump supporters platinum beer fireworks flaring fires visible atop seedy peeled-paint rvs technicolor lights amped up on edgy recreational vehicles 4000 (BRIGHT BLUE), 6000 (BRIGHT GREEN), 750XR ON-AND-ON-AND covered in dirt and filth eating meat sizzled atop   flames atop charcoal bricks and lighter fluid complimented by krafts brand mac n cheese i am apart of it you know your triumph burns sticky, out of my skin guiltily i came into being birthed inside anthracitic sediments and lighter fluid scratching, writhing, biting at the mercy of a hyper-paint / subtle-death encrusted reality
0
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 8:52 PM UTC
seeking it out of my given flesh
A fire broke with his kiss and sizzled her wet 'n' drowning lips
0
Feb 21, 2018
Feb 21, 2018 at 11:19 AM UTC
A Fire
He walked outside and placed it between his lips, As every drop of rain trickled down, so did a tear. He wore nothing but a t-shirt, as white as the sky, He wore nothing but sadness, as he lit. As he pressed his lips together and took a drag- His lungs sizzled- his tears- sizzled. All what was left... a dried up person, lost between drought and hydration.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
Rain Drops & Cigarettes
such a treasure, and a chore! I have bought the local store out of bleach, vinegar, baking soda, ***** and kibble. A bother, yes, when I try to walk to the bathroom or refrigerator without being tripped up, and I shuffle along now, I don't dare to lift my feet for fear of hearing a wounded yelp. And bad breath, I thought the drunk begging a dollar for a small bottle who lives under the bridge when he asked, "spare a dollar, mister?", and my eyebrows sizzled , had bad breath. These treasures breath smells like they eat and drink from a septic tank. Let one whimper or get on their back legs begging me to pick his or her little sticky *** up, and I put it on my chest and watch her , or him, get all cozy listening to my heart beat, and it seems worth it.
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 8:16 PM UTC
pooping peeing puppies
I have always had a wild imagination   Especially when I was younger A endless flow of questions Of everything across the nation I wanted reasons, causation I wanted to know the foundation The formation About any human creation I had this fixation It helped me make relations But at times ended in frustration At times my questions seemingly lingered in the air And I always stared At it Suspended As if time stopped But only for me Until an answer appeared Because I couldn't move on until I knew But majority of the time An answer never came It caused me to boil in pain And steam sizzled my thirst for knowledge even thought the heaviest rain As if the world believed this was all some child's game Each raindrop pounding against my body were punches against my soul Droplet by droplet I wanted to scream stop it But then water filled my mouth from the sky's faucet Like I never grew out of a child's fantasy
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Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
Skies Faucet
Shyly curious you smile at me. Tender, delicate I lightly stroke you, friction ridges of long index finger brushing fine hairs to attention. A sensory meeting, pupils contracted, I impress upon your pale skin from the glenohumeral joint to your elbow, Then our mouths align, entwined, Soft lips parted, eyes closed and tasting; Your worldly generous thighs slightly ajar pressed apart by a firm hand, the sensitive multifingered extremity searches out, Reaching for where you’ve been waiting for years. Beautiful, wide-spread in close proximity, Touching and sizzled by that sweet odour from your neck, pleasing the soul, I do not ask for more delight Upon slipping into your wet and woven silk. But you suddenly unglue our lips and ease me back with a firm hand, Your voice articulates a silent pause. There’s a fierce and undeniable attraction here, Tempered as I sit back for a moment, Excited, quiet and praying for nightfall.
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
**Patient Love**
Upon the heat of the day When Sol high above our heads towered, Raindrops fell cool on panting flowers. You took my hand and led me where You picked damp flowers And then placed them in my hair. With drops that fell and touched my lips Mouth was drawn to mouth in tender kiss. The drops each sizzled in heated bliss To satiated this withering flower. With this bedewing came a glistening spill, In the heating of the day As Sol above us towered, And renewed this panting flower.
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 8:26 PM UTC
This Panting Flower
You make me melt Like butter on hot skillets Before you cook us steak And I mash the potatoes right next to you Even when they’re under salted you tell me You wouldn’t want to eat anything else Your eyes are a fire too hot to touch But whats better than burning love The kind that leaves you in ashes I sizzled and I sparked but now I am one with the flame It causes my skin to bubble my hair to smoke But the heats so **** hypnotic I want to rest in your arms smoldering forever
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Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 1:26 PM UTC
Wildfire
The boiling point of water is one hundred degrees Celsius, or two hundred and twelve degrees Fahrenheit. Every morning, my wife boils water in an old fashioned kettle, because the new one that beeps, well, it broke. Somehow, she broke it. So every morning, I wake up to the obnoxious whistling of the old fashioned kettle. The slow rising, higher and higher, louder and louder, the whistle pierced my ears, like a spear through one ear, and out the other. I just couldn't take it anymore! One morning, I woke up with a monstrous headache. I rolled over in bed and asked my darling, "Do you mind not boiling water this morning for your tea? I have a horrible headache" "Sure" she said kindly, and went back to sleep. Finally, one day without the screeching kettle. I slowly drifted back to sleep. But then, I was awaken! A hideous screeching noise was coming from the kitchen, slowly rising, it got higher and higher, louder and louder, the whistle pierced my ears, like a harpoon through one ear, and out the other. I just couldn't take it anymore! I jumped out of bed, took no time to put my pants on, and charged out into the kitchen. "What's wrong dear!?" my wife shrieked, frightened by my sudden anger. I did not even listen to her, I grabbed the kettle, opened it up, and threw the boiling water, onto my wife gorgeous face. The boiling hot water sizzled on her cool face. Her skin began to bubble, and burn. The aroma of burning flesh, filled the air. She cried out in pain, as she fell to the ground. It was then I realized, I was going to go to jail for this... So I proceeded to smash her face in with the kettle I was holding, until she was unconscious. I checked her pulse. She was dead. I looked at the clock. 5:34. "I can deal with the body in the morning" I said to myself, as a grabbed a cold glass of water. "Looked like you reached your 'boiling point' there, Jeff" I thought to myself, as a chuckled.
0
Apr 4, 2012
Apr 4, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC
Boiling Point
The boiling point of water is one hundred degrees Celsius, or two hundred and twelve degrees Fahrenheit. Every morning, my wife boils water in an old fashioned kettle, because the new one that beeps, well, it broke. Somehow, she broke it. So every morning, I wake up to the obnoxious whistling of the old fashioned kettle. The slow rising, higher and higher, louder and louder, the whistle pierced my ears, like a spear through one ear, and out the other. I just couldn't take it anymore! One morning, I woke up with a monstrous headache. I rolled over in bed and asked my darling, "Do you mind not boiling water this morning for your tea? I have a horrible headache" "Sure" she said kindly, and went back to sleep. Finally, one day without the screeching kettle. I slowly drifted back to sleep. But then, I was awaken! A hideous screeching noise was coming from the kitchen, slowly rising, it got higher and higher, louder and louder, the whistle pierced my ears, like a harpoon through one ear, and out the other. I just couldn't take it anymore! I jumped out of bed, took no time to put my pants on, and charged out into the kitchen. "What's wrong dear!?" my wife shrieked, frightened by my sudden anger. I did not even listen to her, I grabbed the kettle, opened it up, and threw the boiling water, onto my wife gorgeous face. The boiling hot water sizzled on her cool face. Her skin began to bubble, and burn. The aroma of burning flesh, filled the air. She cried out in pain, as she fell to the ground. It was then I realized, I was going to go to jail for this... So I proceeded to smash her face in with the kettle I was holding, until she was unconscious. I checked her pulse. She was dead. I looked at the clock. 5:34. "I can deal with the body in the morning" I said to myself, as a grabbed a cold glass of water. "Looked like you reached your 'boiling point' there, Jeff" I thought to myself, as a chuckled.
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64
The light shines through the windowpane and I start to melt, I scream in pain Hello? help, I can't do this again Shut the curtain, I'm alone again Sizzled and fried, I think I just died How does it feel to still be alive? My lungs are the only thing that's left Slowly rising and falling in a ****** mess How does it feel to still be alive? Stop crying Goodmourning My heart skips beats when I can't sleep My eyes strain red I shot myself in the head This hole in my brain makes me think I'm insane Watch me laugh it off again Syrup pours out but it's not very sweet So I'll hand you the gun, tell you, "copy me." Outcasts in hysteria hold onto our feet How does it feel to still be alive? How does it feel to join the dark side? Stop crying You're dying Goodmourning
0
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 6:03 PM UTC
goodmourning
You are a drug to me Im a passionate jitterbug when you hold me, carelessly falling like a debris, avoiding all casualty I wanna kiss your lips Pull you with my tight grips, hold your hips, endlessly killing you with my kiss Im in love with you In and through the blues, Hon, what allure do you have It got me all stuck and caught through your rendezvous, slept all sizzled by our paramour woke up in the morning all so glamoured, your love always felt me so pampered
0
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
Intimacy
The night flopped over the chimney tops and dripped from the guttering as the day broke through in spots I could hear the house martins sing. The radio sizzled, the bacon crackled, on the range was a pan full of porridge from the morning before. Boots by the door which were itching to go everything's slow when you want to go fast but at last we were out on the last day of the world,(a game that we played where zombies were real and they were coming for us to make of us a meal) Each day is a bonus where the onus to be, is the King of all castles, the Queen of all seas and to seize with both hands the hands of all friends. The day ends with a call from, Mother, you know, everything goes fast when it ought to go slow.
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC
1963 riverside rules
The electrical energy that powers a city Fridges, happy songs, and lighting so pretty. That same electricity that powers our lives, can destroy a home in the blink of an eye. A bolt of electricity thrusts through the sky. The home is destroyed, they’re lucky to be alive. Is it better to feel pain than nothing at all? Is it worth the tears of rain that inevitably fall? The lightning has struck and only a drizzle remains. The home is now ****** and they’re left sizzled with disdain. But had they not built that house, in fear of regression, they would have been left in a life of sorrow and depression. They will cry, they will mourn, they will ***** and they will scorn, But when the sun rises tomorrow there will be no more storm. They’ll reset, they’ll rebuild, better than ever before.
0
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 10:51 PM UTC
Electric Love
Men are doomed, Carla told me, It’s your eternal haircuts, she continued, How can you sculpt a life from a single shape, One look, Every mirror an impersonation Of the initial version of one’s self, Each day reduced to a child’s calculation, You wake up, only older, grayer, a withered rasp, Ever more discouraged by the unfairness of things. Carla exhaled a dragon’s torrent White jet streams unfurled out of both nostrils, A waft of my father’s morning scent. With a flick of her thumb, She snapped the ash Off the end of her cigar. A sharp hiss as the ember sizzled and sank In the shallow of a pavement puddle. It had cold rained most of the day. Over a pause, the sky roiling with indigestion, We bundled up in autumn clothes, And trudged uptown, Our chins tucked deep into our chests, Our squinty eyes glued to our shoes, The wind had a slap to it. It isn’t war you should fear, she continued, It’s robots. Soon we won’t need you for anything, Carla jabbed her lacquered fingernail at phantoms as she spoke. Women have been fornicating with machines For over a hundred years, she said, The transition for us has already occurred. Weld and solder us a pleasant replica, One that can shine a toilet Sterilize the dishes, **** us brilliantly, And recite Shakespeare at will- Believe me, Soon we will barter for your ********* Exchanging bitcoins for the innate, With no intention of ever attending your funeral. No the war is over and men have lost, Carla repeated. She walked ahead me, Her hips a sashay as she spit a loose bit of tobacco leaf Onto a lamp post. I could not persuade my eyes to look away.
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Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 9:36 PM UTC
Cigars
Men are doomed, Carla told me, It’s your eternal haircuts, she continued, How can you sculpt a life from a single shape, One look, Every mirror an impersonation Of the initial version of one’s self, Each day reduced to a child’s calculation, You wake up, only older, grayer, a withered rasp, Ever more discouraged by the unfairness of things. Carla exhaled a dragon’s torrent White jet streams unfurled out of both nostrils, A waft of my father’s morning scent. With a flick of her thumb, She snapped the ash Off the end of her cigar. A sharp hiss as the ember sizzled and sank In the shallow of a pavement puddle. It had cold rained most of the day. Over a pause, the sky roiling with indigestion, We bundled up in autumn clothes, And trudged uptown, Our chins tucked deep into our chests, Our squinty eyes glued to our shoes, The wind had a slap to it. It isn’t war you should fear, she continued, It’s robots. Soon we won’t need you for anything, Carla jabbed her lacquered fingernail at phantoms as she spoke. Women have been fornicating with machines For over a hundred years, she said, The transition for us has already occurred. Weld and solder us a pleasant replica, One that can shine a toilet Sterilize the dishes, **** us brilliantly, And recite Shakespeare at will- Believe me, Soon we will barter for your ********* Exchanging bitcoins for the innate, With no intention of ever attending your funeral. No the war is over and men have lost, Carla repeated. She walked ahead me, Her hips a sashay as she spit a loose bit of tobacco leaf Onto a lamp post. I could not persuade my eyes to look away.
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44
That feeling of being watched crept over his back; it sizzled like fresh moon dust on morning dew, and a smell of guilt — burned vanilla and hair-honey — tickled his flaring nostrils. He sneezed, and licked the gob of mud-snot that covered his mouth. Eyes still watery, he looked up from the hole in the ground: Jenny Jones was standing on the front porch, lantern in hand; he ducked between the flowers. In order to stifle a yelp of laughter, he held his breath, for a cliché question carry-whispered itself over Jenny’s lips; of course there was no-one out there— Christ Almighty! Did she really think he would answer? Here he was, risking his life by dragging a dead body over the neighbours’ lawn, digging a midnight hole in the flower bed where the blue of the paraffin flame waltzed with the rose buds— such a fantastic dance of death. Jenny had one last, urgent glance over her shoulder; she shut the door and caught her night gown in the slam! He wagged his tail, scratched away at the swarm of fleas behind his ear, and placed the pigeon in its grave.
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Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 7:31 PM UTC
Midnight Gardener
1 Water lilies remembered her as one of them, lotus buds nodded, jealousy set  thick in their eyes her fingers were white lily buds she balanced on the big, smooth, round pebble stones, like a danseuse in an under water ballet,you are buoyant here than anywhere, as if you live a life after death your bodies pale and water caressed, create an illusion of 'unliving' 2. she tickled my skin- goosebumps  appeared allover as small bubbles going up..up till they burst above water I can't forget her first  kiss , underwater my lungs were filled with her feminine fragrance like  smoke of cannabis an experience that sizzled the water, never to forget (even if she would never come back from the unfathomable  love, water gives)                                          3                     I was naked, she too, like a lily in bloom that was raveling in love                     as if it was the last season we had                     she was magic in body and soul                     I peeped in to the limitless with her entangling me and at the end,                    I saw  halo around her pointed  *******                    that have become lotus buds.                    I couldn't take my eyes off them after the magical transformation.                    The lake was totally out of the world                     the mossy patch between her legs                    had a fluorescent glow intermittent,                    she was transforming every minute in to  a form of water life, I understood.                    like a fish, coral, moss or water plant                    I , for my dismay remained as before; nothing was to be done about it,                    like many of the things brought change in a person's life.                                              4.                                                       Sun, in the voice of light                                                       called us from above,                                                       his pranks tickled her and me                                                        like ghosts of dead women,                                                         found their watery grave here,                                                        we played with tortoises and frogs                                                        made for us crowns with algae and water flowers.                                                                            5                                                        A silvery  snake, thin, with some intent                                                        coiled around her narrow waist.                                                        eyes in its sharp pointed head,                                                       intently looked in to mine.                                                       she was  now a dolphin without fins                                                        then,  I received waves of clear foreboding                                                        time to return to the shores, I tried to tell                                                       but massive sheets of water ate my muffled words!                                                       Swimming up a water column, she smiled that detached smile                                                       already, she was a mermaid , I could see                                                       I stammered"You..promised..                                                                              to come back..                                                                              we have promises to keep,                                                                              that we exchanged..."                                                       Under water time runs in a way we can't understand                                                       one becomes a flow, one with altered time..                                                        she was just a glow in the depth when I saw her last.                                                           O
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Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 1:33 PM UTC
Love life underwater
1 Water lilies remembered her as one of them, lotus buds nodded, jealousy set  thick in their eyes her fingers were white lily buds she balanced on the big, smooth, round pebble stones, like a danseuse in an under water ballet,you are buoyant here than anywhere, as if you live a life after death your bodies pale and water caressed, create an illusion of 'unliving' 2. she tickled my skin- goosebumps  appeared allover as small bubbles going up..up till they burst above water I can't forget her first  kiss , underwater my lungs were filled with her feminine fragrance like  smoke of cannabis an experience that sizzled the water, never to forget (even if she would never come back from the unfathomable  love, water gives)                                          3                     I was naked, she too, like a lily in bloom that was raveling in love                     as if it was the last season we had                     she was magic in body and soul                     I peeped in to the limitless with her entangling me and at the end,                    I saw  halo around her pointed  *******                    that have become lotus buds.                    I couldn't take my eyes off them after the magical transformation.                    The lake was totally out of the world                     the mossy patch between her legs                    had a fluorescent glow intermittent,                    she was transforming every minute in to  a form of water life, I understood.                    like a fish, coral, moss or water plant                    I , for my dismay remained as before; nothing was to be done about it,                    like many of the things brought change in a person's life.                                              4.                                                       Sun, in the voice of light                                                       called us from above,                                                       his pranks tickled her and me                                                        like ghosts of dead women,                                                         found their watery grave here,                                                        we played with tortoises and frogs                                                        made for us crowns with algae and water flowers.                                                                            5                                                        A silvery  snake, thin, with some intent                                                        coiled around her narrow waist.                                                        eyes in its sharp pointed head,                                                       intently looked in to mine.                                                       she was  now a dolphin without fins                                                        then,  I received waves of clear foreboding                                                        time to return to the shores, I tried to tell                                                       but massive sheets of water ate my muffled words!                                                       Swimming up a water column, she smiled that detached smile                                                       already, she was a mermaid , I could see                                                       I stammered"You..promised..                                                                              to come back..                                                                              we have promises to keep,                                                                              that we exchanged..."                                                       Under water time runs in a way we can't understand                                                       one becomes a flow, one with altered time..                                                        she was just a glow in the depth when I saw her last.                                                           O
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60
1. At the first timid tinge of blush in the sky he emerged, shirtless from his shelter. And seeing how the shadows slipped down into the canyon he searched, thirst-less, for a cactus. He sat at its feet all morning, legs crossed like a native. He prayed to the green scarecrow, begged him to help. He was worn, like an old stone, weary from his war with the sandpaper wind, and ready to be born again as pieces. When the heat reached him, broke the distant ridge, he stared at the sun-- until he cried. Blueberry eyes bled and burnt black. He turned away, just before he went blind.          2. In the white afternoon when shadows dissolved, he gazed downward into the carcass of the creek. He passed the red hours by counting piles of bleached bones, clumps of carbon that sizzled in the sand. He counted Seventy seven fleshless creatures sleeping beside the dream of water. 3. It was dusk when he descended into the canyon. He carried a pen light, a shovel, and a map. At the bottom he waded through dust, ran his hands through cold sand, touched ripples born of the breeze. 4. The moon bloomed. Blue light flooded the canyon. He smiled. Laid down. Let the water wash over.
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Feb 4, 2010
Feb 4, 2010 at 12:22 PM UTC
Water Dream