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"slyest" poems
Have you met the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man? He scammed fig leafs in the garden, And **** cloth in Ottoman.      outside-in, inside-out; upside-down, right-side up The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can cuss. He offers snake oil, spins a tale, So you feel smart, healthy and hale.      from top to bottom, bottom to top The Who-gee Boo-gee Man can't stop. He swrawls with a Sharpie pen.      right is left, left is wrong That's the Who-Gee Boo-Gee song. Consultation for now is free, No hidden added extra fees: You buy two, you get three.      north to south, east to west The Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man won't rest. I've heard his feet are cloven; The eyes are yellow, lips look swollen; He has two fingers, wears silk- woven. He sweats like water to the lowest level; He's quicker than the slyest devil, Selling hell, but we hear heaven; Doing so twenty-four seven. He photo-shops secret desires, Twists truth-tellers into liars; Artful, wily, scheming, subtle, The Who-Gee Boo-Gee's a hungry jackal.      *today is the day, yesterday's late,      tomorrow's a place that just won't wait* I met up with the Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man, Peddling apples from my jardain.
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Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
The Who-Gee Boo-Gee Man
More white than the most beautiful wedding dress. More delicate than the fairest rose. More valuable than its weight in gold. More necessary than milk and bread. More precious than a brilliant diamond. More useful than the strongest man. More versatile than the slyest fox. Toilet paper: I love thee.
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Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
Toilet Paper
She is the slyest creature ever whelped by wolf or woman A barking beast small in stature huge in heart Face framed by fire done up in fur the friendliest constellation in the night sky one known to all Hilda She is coyote on a good day a wolf cub at play a lover in the morning noon and night A slight and feral hound with ideas of her own We found her in the company of a wizard. Oh yes! And he wove for us a sweet spell of harmony well mingled with domestic peace. Hilda was the incantation. And the spell was strong.
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Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
Incidental Poem (about a very small beast)
Eyes of dull with rage to shed, a hair displayed the crimson red. Soul of stains like wine on bread, remove the waste, recall the dead. Vicious is as Vicious says, a simple schiz without his meds. Reptiles dwell where the climates dynamic fakes only sunbathe and copy the tactic. Delicious is dread which is born out of sin such the slyest of styles and guile with grin. Just remember the words of your elder and kin, eggs are good for dinner but you're much to small for Dragons.
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Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 7:46 AM UTC
Vicious
He made an expression he did not feel And pretended he had no gashes to heal For one of the three had to be sane And pretend to not feel pain He displayed emotions he did not know He did not subject and went with the wind’s blow He had plentiful to say But he kept his judgments gray The slyest are the most broken The silent are the well spoken He recognized it all too well And so, his ego could not swell The sun had set long ago And the melancholy moon was the only glow The only nimble of hope The only entity keeping them on a durable rope He was the only contestant left in fate’s game And was the set aim He had his cards lay out Though even the wisest had their doubts Would he live? Would he thrive? Or would he drive himself mad? And give up faking to be not glad They say you cannot change the past Though he knew he would not last If he were to dwell in his secrets long He just needed to hear a song The lullaby of a songbird would bring The justice of a king And the game of fate Would soon be set straight For it is the story we have all heard but never learnt The one where friendly rivalry burnt Two pits of gold One bad, one bold A path lit leads the way Choose wrong and your loved ones shall pay So choose your fate’s date Tick tock, it’s getting late
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Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 4:36 PM UTC
Smile
You were fast moving
 with the slyest amount of caution, 
forward but I saw the hesitation. 
I should’ve known from the moment you pressed your hand on my cheek. 
That extra second you spent in your head before you made your move.
 The softest touch, so sincere. 
 Did you know what you were about to do?
 How you’d make me fall in love with every touch, every look you made in my direction.
 You fell too, but never for more than a second.
 I knew how to play the game, you just knew how to play it better.
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Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 2:02 AM UTC
My sly love
She’s talking through my dreams again Always the same as she’s always been Dressed in distress and decadence Soaked in hate up to her lovely dress My favorites threes since My second, better death Forever her eyes up to the sky Above her head a broken halo shines Infinite repeat so easily broken And that’s when I hear the words She’s finally spoken up to me With the slyest grin “I’ll cook your heart inside of mine Drip into every atom of your mind” As scared of her as I should’ve been I could not resist and let her into My broken arms, so full of sin Caked with blood and my lasting regrets My troubled world starts to crave pain The dream begins and I enslave her Scarred and beautiful as death in her skin I behold her true but is it only… because I’m lost? Or am I lonely? Without a soul to bind me I’d leave this place all behind and say goodbye But where I fell is where I stay drained of will And in my dreams she never fades away until Opulence in impurities and confident insecurities Have ravished her frame from days on end within My fevered lust, which has come betrayed with truth And lies, I turn to her “I love you still, but will let you loose Upon this world as I’ve done before- never return to me Anymore.” But then, she returns again. © 2014
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
Heart (X) Specter
if your a foster kid, you know what being us can do, they see the criminals on the news, and treat you like your trouble too its harsh being in foster care, makes me want to pull my hair to think that it is so unfair living in the fosters' care in the home I'm in, in foster the parent treated me like an imposter the lady said I'm off my rocker because of my religion and maybe I'm just being biased but i think that lady was impious so if i were to end this poem you'd think i think i was the slyest
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May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 10:11 AM UTC
the wrong home