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PM Mar 2021
There, is a story little known,
Which came to light when the ruse had worn.
Of membranes torn;
And gallantry ill-worn.

Now you see, Snow-White as all of you’ve read,
Was not as boring as you’ve been fed.
She was a maiden fair,
That to question I do not dare.

But, besides that there is more to the tale,
Which is not as stale,
As the same pompous banter.
That, without having uttered two words, they lived happily ever after.

There, you see is a simple formula to this potion,
Of grand love, and romantic notions.
Where the man is a Prince, Oh! That simply cannot be altered.
And a fair maiden whose virtue has never faltered.

He is rich, she is fair.
All’s well with the world, so have no care.
They will see each other just once.
It does not matter if he be a dunce.



Love will certainly flow, there’s no point in taking it slow.
So off they will go,
Riding into a mandatory sunset.
With satiated readers and expectations met.

Now, as you know, in this tale of love and woe,
There must be a wicked woman, there is no other way to go.
For, it is a fact known to all.
Women are the wickedest of them all.

For, how could step-mommy leave it be?
That Snowy was getting prettier than she.
Tell me, have you heard of such a rarity,
Where women who are so full of vanity,

Managed to love a child that wasn’t her own.
Hence, stepmothers are the stock villain, and that is a fact well-known.

Now, Snow White was, as you’ve guessed, white as snow;
And being fair does a long way go.
Mommy dearest couldn’t stand that, women are petty we all know,
Even if they don’t always show.

So, she sent her lackey to chop off Snowy’s head;
And the queen was sure, Snowy was dead.
But the lackey had gotten soft and fuzzy.
And had let Snowy run-off after getting a little cozy.

Now, Snowy ran and ran and came to a small house.
Fit for none but a rather big mouse.
But dainty as she was,
She crawled through the moss.

She entered the little house and saw a warm cozy den.
She had run a long way; and was in a good deal of pain.
So, she lay down on one oddly small but cozy bed.
And slept for hours as if she were dead.

When she awoke, Snowy lay amidst stubby little men.
All in all they were seven.
They weren’t ugly little midgets at all.
But granted, they weren’t really that tall.

Well, they did look quite good.
Sadly, Snowy’s stomach lurched only for food.
Days went by, the little men kept Snowy safe and sound.
And now a strange feeling in her heart was found.

Snowy had a courting Prince back at home.
Funnily, who hadn’t even noticed that she was gone.
But all the while as she thought of her Prince and his face,
He faded far off, and she went into a daze.

Now, there was this handsome stubby dwarf, his name was Sneezy,
And his manner rather gallant and breezy.


He wasn’t the plump, bulbous nosed oaf so old.
As you’ve so often been told.
He was a jaunty good lad,
Snowy liked him better than the Prince; even if a tad.

Snowy in her heart felt warm and fuzzy,
And her little bed was amply cozy.
One day when the other six stubbys were off into the forest,
Sneezy professed his love for his dearest.

Snowy was smitten.
The pompous Prince forgotten.
One kiss followed another kiss,
On that odd cozy bed, they found their bliss.

Snowy and Sneezy lived happily for the time being.
Till, her oblivious Prince was alerted of this scene.
Of a happy Snow-White living with her chubby, little mate.
He rode through the forest, and knocked at their gate.

He was livid to see that Snowy had found, of all people a Dwarf.
The thought itself made him ****.
Better dead than compromised he frowned.
“Oh! I wish you were drowned”.

“How can you live with men?” he blubbered.
Now, here is a maiden with virtue altered.
To avenge his honor, he challenged Sneezy to a duel,
Seeing that he was half his height, wasn’t that rather cruel?

Now, somedays before this had occurred.
Snowy’s news by the evil stepmother was discovered.

Learning she was still alive and well,
With anger did her heart swell.
She decided to take matters into her own hands.
And thereby took up a disguise, as it stands

She set out with a poisoned apple.
Well, there again for every mischief an apple is a staple.
On Snowy’s door she knocked to peddle.
The crimson, yet deadly apple.

Now, Snowy here was smarter than she did look.
Didn’t I say, she wasn’t as boring as mistook.
Having well recognized mummy dear,
She took the apple and tossed it near.

Presently, with a repentant look, and show of care,
Before the Prince she laid out her snare.
Knowing well her beloved Sneezy,
Though gallant would die in a tizzy.

She offered this apple to the pompous Prince,
Who bit into it without so much as a wince.
Believing it to be an abject offering,
For her indiscretions, and virtue faltering.

His Royal Highness plonked on the ground.
In a deep slumber, so sound.
Thus, was saved her little Sneezy.
Gallant, stubby with a manner so breezy.

Well, the Prince, he slept in utter peace.
Awaiting to be woken by true love’s kiss.
But fair maidens you see, do not kiss.
For fear their reputation go amiss.

As for Snowy and Sneezy,
Their love kept them busy.
And they lived as happily as one could.
When living in a small hut, down in the woods.
A subverted tale battling the age old norms and stock plots, with a humorous twist.
Nickols Oct 2012
Red is for the blood split.
Three drops; no more, no less.
Plucked upon a roses thorny edge.

Down

Drop

They

Drop

Tumbled.

Drop

­A stark contrast against the blanket of the whitest snow.
A wish was all it took,
For a spell had been woven through true loves magic.

The Queen belly, twas ripe with babe--
A princess-
skin white as snow,
lips red as glittering ruby's
and hair black as nights coal.

Her name:
Well Snow White, of course.
Or so the legend has told.

For what comes next is quite tragic.
For all magic comes with a toll;
An equivalent exchange:
a life, for a soul.

The babe was born on the morning rays, as for told.

With skin white as snow,
lips red as glittering ruby's
and hair black as nights coal--
For the Queen's last wish held true.

But for the King,
He grieved his sorrow for his lost beloved.
His happily ever-after crumbled throughout his kingdom-
like a wicked plague itself.

A Witching Queen rising in the true Queens place.
A evil stepmother-
for sweet innocent Snow White.

This vain diabolist, weaved her dark spell.
A magical looking glass-
appeared in front of her face.

"Magic mirror on my wall
Who is the fairest of them all"


The enchanted piece of glass
swirled and looped and then spoke.

"My Queen,
you are full of fair,
it is true,
but on this day
Snow White is fairer than you"


With a mighty jealous roar-
this Evil Queen called for her Huntsman.
To **** the one that might dare, to be fairer, then she--

Snow White's heart in a box
was the bounty!
because in the end the child needed to die.
For no one was fairer then the vainest of the Queens.

But you see:
The Huntsman of this Baneful Queen,
could not **** one such as sweet and fair as
the one know as:
Snow White.

A deer's heart,
is what is sent back in the Queens box;
But what became of dearest Snow White, you say?

Well: She went to live in the woods,
A small tiny cottage,
with seven little dwarfs.

What are their names, you ask?
Lets see:
There is--

Blick
&
then there is,
Flick
don't forget,
Glick
or then,
Plick,
wait a second.
Don't forget about,
Snick,
&
Whick,
and most important,
Quee.

And if you do not know them by these names,
what about:
*****,
Then Grumpy
Doc,
&
Happy
Sleepy and
Sneezy,
don't forget about,
Bashful.

They protected their fair Snow White,
from the Hideous Queen.
And for two year-
they kept her safe.

Until:
The Evil Queen conjured her magic,
and when the enchanted mirror gleamed back at her,
she queried--

"Magic mirror on my wall
Who is the fairest of them all"


The enchanted piece of glass
swirled and looped and then spoke once more.

"My Queen,
you are full of fair,
it is true,
but still too this day,
the young Queen,
is a thousand times fairer than you"


The Queen knew she had been tricked--
A wicked plan had been struck.
A old hag hid the Queens' face well.

Red is the color of ripened apple,
disguising the greenest of deadliest poison.
One bite: was all it took.
Snow White, asleep for all times.

But you see,
All magic comes with a toll.
And a true loves kiss, broke the spell.

This is a story about over coming the greatest of evil.
A reminder:
the light will always prevail.
© Victoria
Robert Ronnow Apr 2018
What a city I murmur to myself looking at its map.
We approached the city known as Dis,
with its vast army and its burdened citizens.
At last we reached the moats
dug deep around the dismal city.
What destroys the poetry of a city?
Automobiles destroy it,
and they destroy more than the poetry.
Dante and Virgil chased by 7 or 8 dangerous devils
Grumpy, Happy, Sneezy, Sleepy, ***** . . .
Our heroes reduced from metaphysical philosophers
interested in god and what man has done to man
to improvising primitive tools for survival.
Hope abandoned, we rate our chances of expiring
in the nuclear fire – excellent –
during the decline of western civilization.

On the other hand, I hope
our current problems are only temporary
and it’s just a matter of time before
the public ignores the 24-hour news cycle.
Bad news sells but the good life’s all around us.
One feels love and devotion
even for the 60 million who voted for our opponent.
Vaclav Havel said with a wisdom well beyond brilliance:
“Either we have hope within us or we don’t.
It is a dimension of the soul, and it’s not dependent
on some particular observation of the world or estimate of the situation.
It is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart
that transcends the world as it’s immediately experienced.
It is not the conviction that something will turn out well,
but the certainty that something makes sense
no matter how it turns out.”

It resembles grief. But it's not quite grief. I'll give you grief.
Certain days planned to be eventful I look forward to for weeks.
Let the peaceful transfer of power proceed. The sorrow and the pity.
Never may the anarchic man find rest at my hearth.
When the laws are kept, how proudly the city stands!
When the laws are broken, what of the city then?
We are moving through some allegory between a City of Hope,
where history has been abolished, and a City of History,
where hope can be slipped in only as contraband.
Failing to achieve understanding, we're searching
outer space for an entity to unite us as humanity.
That person, or city, is consciousness.
Two ancient female poets are a revelation,
the clarity of their complaints: lost lover, lost city.
Our enemy eventually becomes our brother,
his misery lifted by coming to her city.
www.ronnowpoetry.com

--Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, The Inferno, Canto VIII, Italian, trans. Robert Hollander & Jean Hollander, Anchor Books, 2000.
--Ferlinghetti, Lawrence, Poetry Flash, November 1998
--Havel, Vaclav, Disturbing the Peace: A Conversation with Karel Huizdala, Vintage Books, 1991.
--Iyer, Pico, The Man Within My Head, Vintage Books, 2013
--Sophocles, Antigone, Greek, trans. Dudley Fitts & Robert Fitzgerald from The Oedipus Cycle: An English Version, Harcourt Brace & Co., 1939.
Larry B Dec 2010
I bet you didn't know that the 7 dwarfs
Used to work for Santa Claus
Yep, they all got fired from the north pole
Cause they kept breaking too many laws

See, Doc was the north pole physician
He tended to those who were afflicted
But he was writing too many prescriptions
And three hundred elves got addicted

Then we have the dwarf called Sneezy
Sneezy became a problem too
Everywhere he goes he's blowing his nose
And they all came down with the flu

Next we have the dwarf named Sleepy
Now this one should speak for itself
He was always found somewhere laying down
Curled up in a corner on a shelf

Then there's the dwarf called Bashful
This one was just way too shy
And when they finally gave him his pink slip
He was too embarrassed to say goodbye

That brings us to the dwarf named Happy
Now he was just a bundle of joy
But they just couldn't get him to do any work
Cause he was always playing with a toy

And of course we can't forget about *****
This one always did what they said
But he was a little slow, if you know what I mean
And they think he was dropped on his head

And last but not least we have Grumpy
He would stay out drinking all night
Now he was the the north pole's problem child
Cause he was always starting a fight

Well that's the end of my story
And I really hope you're not annoyed
Did I tell you Snow White fired them too?
Yep, all seven dwarfs are unemployed



© All Rights Reserved
Larry B Apr 2010
I bet you didn't know that the 7 dwarfs
Used to work for Santa Claus
Yep, they all got fired from the north pole
Cause they kept breaking too many laws

See, Doc was the north pole physician
He tended to those who were afflicted
But he was writing too many prescriptions
And three hundred elves got addicted

Then we have the dwarf called Sneezy
Sneezy became a problem too
Everywhere he goes he's blowing his nose
And they all came down with the flu

Next we have the dwarf named Sleepy
Now this one should speak for itself
He was always found somewhere laying down
Curled up in a corner on a shelf

Then there's the dwarf called Bashful
This one was just way too shy
And when they finally gave him his pink slip
He was too embarressed to say goodbye

That brings us to the dwarf named Happy
Now he was just a bundle of joy
But they just couldn't get him to do any work
Cause he was always playing with the toys

And of course we can't forget about *****
This one always did what they said
But he was a little slow, if you know what I mean
And they think he was dropped on his head

And last but not least we have Grumpy
He would stay out drinking all night
Now he was the the north pole's problem child
Cause he was always starting all the fights

Well that's the end of my story
And I really hope you're not annoyed
Did I tell you Snow White fired them too?
Yep, all seven dwarfs are unemployed
Dani Allensworth Jul 2014
I get Grumpy.
That is to say,
I understand the dwarf.

Not that I don't get grumpy.
That is to say,
Become irritable.

In fact that is what we have in common,
Grumpy and I.
We both become irritable.

Except it's not that we are grumpy,
Grumpy and I.
Not really.

Grumpy and I are sick.
But people don't realize it,
Because it is not in the Sneezy kind of way.

Depression makes people,
And at least 1 in 7 dwarves,
Become irritable.

We get grumpy about ***** things,
Yell at our families,
Then get mad at ourselves for being grumpy.

There are other symptoms too,
Like being sleepy or sad.
But irritability is often overlooked.

What Grumpy and I really need,
But we're too Bashful to say so,
Is to see a Doc.

Because all any of us want,
Grumpy or not,
Is to be Happy.
Meh. Not my best work. But you get the point.
Jai Oct 2013
Snowy,foley,blowy,
Showery,flowery,bowery,
Hoppy,Croydon,droopy,
­Breezy,sneezy,freeze.
And the twelve months.
Olivia Kent Nov 2013
The Trouble with Dwarfs!

Not snow white in fairy gaffs.
Bashful indiscretion.
Happy has a smiling face.
Every now and then.
Grumpy in the morning.
When alarm says up you get.
Off you have to go and play.
Snow White, well she wants sweet sleepy's head.
'Hi **, hi **.
It's off to work you go.'
He said!
***** was once really ******.
Till Doc he came along and moaned.
Sneezy had the sniffles.
Perhaps he was allergic.
Wanted no more fairy gaffs.
Only wanted lots of laffs!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
A little slightly adult humour x
Larry B Apr 2010
Snow White and the 7 dwarfs
Are really not what they seem
So stay far away from them
Or they'll put you on their team

They're really one of them doom's day cults
And Snow White is their leader
They'll do whatever she tells them to
And I hope you never meet her

They do that cult-like chanting
The one everybody knows
It's some kind of crazy singing
"Hi **, Hi **", you know how it goes

Even their names should tell you
That something's kinda creepy
Grumpy, Bashful, *****, Happy,
Sneezy, Doc and Sleepy

They stand out on the corner
And pass their leaflets out
Telling all who passes by
What they're all about

They'll offer you an apple
And you'll think they're being kind
But all it takes is just one bite
And then they'll control your mind

Don't say I didn't warn you
If you do what I have feared
You'll find yourself 3 feet tall
And sporting a tiny beard
Sean Hunt Jul 2018
When the weather's too fine
we whine
When the weather's bad
we're mad
When is too dry
we cry
When is too wet
we fret
In the hail
we wall
If it changes
we complain
If it doesn't
we go insane
We don't like
a lightning strike
Hearing thunder
make us wonder
what we've done
In the sleet
we crave some heat
and when it cools down
we frown
When it heats up
we've had enough
In the fog
we curl up with the dog
When it's too breezy
we're sneezy
Come the frost
we're lost
When there's ice
it's not nice
and in the snow
we don't go
anywhere
Brent Kincaid Feb 2016
We battled for our freedom
What a shame to lose it now.
We need to fight again.
Make some swords out of our ploughs.
The enemy is within us
Look around, you’ll see them now.
Don’t let the crazies win!

Glory doesn’t come so easy.
Politicians can be ******.
*****, Grumpy Doc and Sneezy
Are brighter than our Congress.

Equal rights and freedom
Were the watchwords at the time
The founding fathers met
And made the opposite a crime.
Then rich men came along
And showed us how to act like slime.
Don’t let those criminals win!

Glory doesn’t come so easy.
Politicians like things ******.
Washington is getting wheezy
When corporations cheat!

They take away your rights
And make sure your vote will never count.
And say they are agreeing
With a bunch of no-accounts.
They’ll wait ‘til you’re not looking
And then legally they’ll pounce.
We’re **** near on the brink!

Glory be to God almighty.
There’s no time for being flighty.
They’ll leave us nothing but our nighties!
It’s closer than you think!
Arcassin B Jul 2017
By Arcassin B & Wendy R


AB: Searching for a part I never thought i'd find in myself
carrying guilt in many ways from a cry of self help,
A tally every time for all the times , those simple times,
where it could've been easy,
life is a common cold and I've been sneezy.
in a world of pure uncertainty,
they ******* your energy,
brainwash your thoughts through a big flat t.v screen,
we work for things we've earned,
if you're not stupid , you'll learn,
that everybody has a purpose,
don't let evils scratch the surface,
they like to show up where your worth is,
It's just a casual Sunday,

the love we find.
is the love we hide for ourselves.
The love we find.
they want to see how it felt.


WR: If humans were a floriculture
Some might call me a ****
Poetry, my way of
Spreading forth my seed
Just like a ****, in a perfect line
I do not grow, you will find me
On a venture clustered down
The untaken trail
To spread the seeds I sow
I sprout sporadically
Throughout the year
My motivational bloom in life
Is to conquer all fear
Constant growth is my goal
Endurance of the tragedies of Life
To enrich the blooming of my soul
Purpose to bloom above all strife
IT'S JUST A CASUAL SUNDAY.

AB : the love we find.
is the love we hide for ourselves.
The love we find.
they want to see how it felt.
©abpoetry2017
https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/07/cant-be-silenced-surprise-ep-explicit.html
Frowning Apr 2019
8
I thought I was a living God,  
I was brought-up-by-poetry,
I was just an unjust fraud,
I applaud : the , "keep on just sewing me,"
I nod to go toe2toe
4 every  blow4blow, blowing, me
I clawed up
shot up, yup I got up
got caught .

Taught,
I all for naught.
Not the way I was brought up.
Yeah, man I can kick it. Yeah,
this sick stick em up kid.
Mr. Black-and-blue
how you got caught with each low elbow so low,
burned& turned:
head-is-full,
pedestal pirate,
a tyrant,  

that forgot about poetry.
beat by a trick-by-trick treat, so sweet
gets to be ******,
So,
******:
            a rich nose itch to be sneezy.
I unknowing, I queasy  
I paid the cost to get lost, and uneasy,
easygoing was easy,  
I used. To tease me,
U'used.  To disease me. I got to get going,
became afraid of heights just for growing up,

I guess, a messed,
you, know-nothing: know nothing
I know I was was better with poetry.
the half-man that I am, I only,
am' lonely,
just knowing me.
The lowest of lows
was never as low as
me.
edit later
Vince Chul'Theg May 2017
Flood gate motorcade
Spirit sprite's lemonade

Walnut wig
Lipsticked pig

Throw me down a love grenade.

Five foot five
Brown skin live

******* pucker
Real good ******

Kiss my neck we both will thrive.

Hold my hand to cross the street
Me, your mama meet and great

Supply the sticky
Never picky

Poetry makes my man feel neat.

I want to love you all the time
Nose hair, **** cut, I don't mind

Always love me
Always hug me

Get into this heart of mine.

Spring time makes you itchy, sneezy
Wash feet of the hungry, needy

Lifetime bond
Warm palm frond

You said you don't just want, but need me.

Your love for me is unconstricted
Throw out fear, that wolf’s evicted

Be my champion
Handsome companion

Ensure our spirits stay soaring, lifted

><<>> <<><<

Side-note:

(Who taught you to love like this?
Who taught you to love like this?

You  know it’s because you love yourself
in a way that’s ******* rare, right?

This is why you can afford to give this much?
It scares me, but not in the horror movie way.
It scares me, not in the feeding-the-bad-wolf-way.
It scares me because your love is becoming the platform upon
which I am learning to love myself the way I deserve to. My love for myself is catching up with the love you have for me.

How you look into my eyes is indescribable.
I think you see something in here that I don’t. I’m getting there.

This is how you inspire me.
This is why I need you.

This is a race we will both win. We will both win this one.
Hand in hand, marathon ribbon cut sand.)



I'm afraid to say it
I'm afraid to say this

But I think I have to

I more than want you

Circle the block
Drum core, piccolo, fife.

You might just be the love of my life.

Good morning.
I love you.
and Happy Birthday
12345678 microseconds til...69 pm

herewith fall lows ing lush goulash
   who doth pine  
   tongue waggin a fly wheel
   sincere soul
    whose shoe size
   measures about size nine

with pure motive to challenge
   thinking as my goal
   if drawn to language of wordsmith,
   or like this swiftly tailored/
   harried style of mine

   who wrought a jagged line
though i promise companionship
   twill be Harris Boss tweed fine
   a byte size musing to dine
with interpretation strictly
   within mind of the reader,

   which rich or on the dole
might nonetheless agree
   this post tubby asinine

mindfulness = the general under
lying sans this bloke, whose
philosophic eclectic metric,
hermetic, intrinsic...
outlook helps me access
and process reality.

toe this line to tread against da feet.

a personal yardstick as i plod
along boulevard of broken dreams,
whereby no animals will be harmed
in this life long journey before the kiss
of death, whence me cremated ashes
will be dispersed across temporal plane
from natural forces of earth, wind and fire.

Arch back like a professional ballet dancer
to stand out from other pedestrian applicants
seeking to fill my well worn shoes.

Illuminate your soul via modest
communication sans sole full insight
acquired thru being apprenticed with
storied prestigious law firm of Anne nic Culle,  
Achilles Heale, and Marathon Nike.

Keep your nose to the academic grind
stone despite temptation to appropriate
international family business and graduation
with supreme accolades from this famous father.

He i.e. slim shady forsook frivolity
per his peers in exchange a stock
reputation of gentility honesty,
and integrity despite humble roots
only male heir of a Middle Eastern
European Jewish mother and father.

They scrimped, saved and sacrificed
scarce resources to set stage for
this scion of well deserved fame and fortune.

Never forget those grandparents
whose adherence to work their
fingers to the bone (literally)
allowed, enabled and provided
this founding partner per the trio
of stalwart attorneys for underdogs
of the World Wide Web.

Match deeds with credo of obedience
to the law of the land,
as epitomized by Abraham Lincoln.

Such obeisance to a democratic dogma
will be firm steppingstones to engender
and kindle an Amazon zone of cathartic
karma from paternal persona.

Such acquiescence toward morals
of the conscience (and remembrance
of previous generations blood, sweat
and tears) will serve as intrinsic manna
for clients to clamor like an unstoppable
rolling stone to seek counsel from,
whose genuine heart felt equalitarian demeanor
a near perfect recipe for satisfaction
helping others smooth out jagged
abutments arising in their lives.

Rather than lecture and command
with a dictatorial cutthroat reign of terror
(as casually espoused in “The Prince”
by Machiavelli), this democratic,
humanistic, liberal minded torchbearer
of justice advises active listening (as
advocated by the late Jean Dole (who
eternally rests within a pineapple
under the sea), my renown mentor
from Lima, Pennsylvania), inculcating
intuitive posturing toward delivering
random acts of kindness.

This includes offer services pro bono
if an individual, family, municipality,
et cetera appears copacetic yet struggles
against insurmountable odds from
fickle finger of fate.

Exemplify by example of zeal for
underdog (immersed in catastrophic
series of unfortunate events) that money
need not be demanded before welfare
of down trodden such exuberance
witnessing an ear to ear smile of gratitude.

Rather than be biased, inclined
to be prejudiced based on cursory
observations of one or many barely
clinging to the life raft of survival,
I (as a humble human) encourage
a relationship of trust before casting
an indiscriminate eye toward those
less fortunate to live in the lap of luxury.

Luck (or the lack thereof) an invisible
yet potent additive to this mix those flush
with disposable income or exiled
to a hand to mouth hardscrabble dilemma.

Daily acknowledgement for ethnic,
genetic and quixotic claydice throw of chance
in tandem with loving support immediate
kith and kin instrumental keeping
in check bombastically egotistical, haughtily
radical degradation of fixation of values
steeped in appreciation of aesthetics,
beauty, charm, decency,
equality from gifts hoed inside.

Joyfulness keeps love moving
needling offset predilections.

Quality rests squarely upon pillars
of staying within bounds of service
to those less able bodied or beset
with untold obstacles that discourage
setting virtue (or the closest approximation
of what that means to the inquiring mind)
as precedent to blaze
a trail of care and concern.

Always maintain benevolent devotion
foreswearing greediness.

Invoke keepsake mandating omnipotent
natural personal righteousness to vaccinate
yourself against heinous, nefarious, pernicious,
et cetera rapacious trapdoors of selfishness.
-----------------------------------------------      
from::matthew scott harris

of unsound body, mind and spirit than
by all means and ways -- please ripple
lye to me, an adroitly, artistically brief,
crazily dazzling, erotically frisky, gladly
*****, ineluctably juicy, lovely, magically
noopy, opulently private, purring
quietly, romantically **** reap ply.

yes?

postscript: i in conjunction with zippy, x2c, yuppy, trippy, sleepy, sneezy, queasy, ruby, kooky, loony, jessie, inky, happy, grumpy, grouchy, ******, ernie, doobie, clumsy, et cetera plus snow white can vouch safe that the democratic party approves of thee above  message.
as the **** of A.C./D.C. have degenerated eclectical currents ******
I stuff my both nostrils with onion skins to obliterate feeling sneezy
My bleeding heart has been knotted, contorted & tangled dead after
finding that Frederique van der Wal works as a bouncer called Fred
My old heart's been knotted, mangled & tangled dead after learning
that Frederique van der Wal knocks heads as a bouncer named Fred
I wanna be your lesbian play-thing in ways digestively pancreatical
until I am gynecologically unfit to be your **** purely diagnostical
as from within our vulvae sprout puffy cysts fleshed pseudocystical
that swing on the periphery of benignant wens gone neoplasmatical
in Chicago slaughter houses where each & every delicious pig *****
on old concrete floors that are made no less **** by porcine *******
that pop unpropped as popped polyp polypus polypusi possibly pop
in fashion with cryptical fashion that sits slower than soles at a stop
Don’t nobody mess with Snow White.
I’m the Queen of the ‘hood, don’t give me a fight.
I’ve got Grumpy and his Kalshnikov.
Sneezy and his crew did the bank job.
***** meets the plane coming in at JFK,
with its cargo of smack, to bag and weigh.
Sleepy got busted, he’s doing time--
but he ain’t no snitch, so we’ll all be fine.
Happy’s my honey, as long as I got money--
I feed him some coke and he keeps my mood sunny.
Bashful’s the lookout, he stands on the corner.
Doc sews them up, saves them from the coroner.
I ain’t got no evil stepmother,
and if you mess with my crew you’re a stupid *******.
I wrote this 10 years ago for a contest on PoetFreak.
Sudhanthra Devi Oct 2018
I get lost when I see a smile on my mom's face
It's a rarest sparkle which a gem could not compete

I get lost in the darkness of my home when she leaves for work

I try to do things on my own
But I get lost in the mess I made

I get lost in the warmth when I feel her arms around me

I get lost in the tasty food she make and I like the way when it break

I get lost in the pile of dresses in searching them and savior's voice comes from the kitchen

I get lost in the pillow fight
Find myself when I am down from the cot

I get lost in the sneezy cold and my mom loses her sleep

Whenever I get lost she will find me a comfort

She got lost once when I lied
Even when no rules was laid
She believed
That I could get lost without her
But this time I got lost in love of someone .......,,,,
I keep my neck below my head so that my head rests not dislocated
above Bruce Jenner's extreme estrogenetical ******* unabated
as the **** of A.C./D.C. have degenerated eclectical currents ******
I stuff my both nostrils with onion skins to obliterate feeling sneezy
My bleeding heart has been knotted, contorted & tangled dead after
finding that Frederique van der Wal works as a bouncer called Fred
My old heart's been knotted, mangled & tangled dead after learning
that Frederique van der Wal knocks heads as a bouncer named Fred
I wanna be your lesbian play-thing in ways digestively pancreatical
until I am gynecologically unfit to be your **** purely diagnostical
as from within our vulvae sprout puffy cysts fleshed pseudocystical
that swing on the periphery of benignant wens gone neoplasmatical
in Chicago slaughter houses where each & every delicious pig *****
on old concrete floors that are made no less **** by porcine *******
that pop unpropped as popped polyp polypus polypusi possibly pop
in fashion with cryptical fashion that sits slower than soles at a stop
☒ The truest of dead-tested-death-testing proves Robin's dead for sure
☒ By 26 August 2014: Robin F. Williams doesn't **** & doesn't snore
☒ Showing that his rotting *** is dead because it cannot **** anymore
☒ To distance Italians from Sicilian mobsters is a Neapolitan goal,
☒ so Italia: inter mummy Rosalia Lombardo to instate her timeless role
☒ as the raking gnaw of unholy museum worship exacts a Karmic toll
☒ La Repubblica italiana, bury Rosellina Lombardo to honor her soul
☒ Meanwhile a counterfeit woman lives as Michelle Obama the man
☒ Reeling in big fish, retiring with his husband and living on the land
☒ This Michelle Obama's of a neo-femininity heftily counter-manned
☒ Wail over the blubber of mercurial fish shrink-wrapped and canned
☒ Michelle's ribs are the Chesapeake Bridge over oily water spanned
☒ It's worse than what the immigration department doesn't require as
☒ the bureaucratic class charges a **** cop grid with a 240 live wire
☒ because accordingly Vatican City is the descendant Roman Empire
☒ where-from incorporated elites throw Christians on a funereal pyre
☒ 1 door-to-door monkey salesman Jim Jones of Jonestown, Guyana
☒ Died for the C.I.A. as M.I.5 murdered ex-princess ******* Diana
☒ Eerily hear '97's semi auditory disturbance: Tyson bites Holyfield
☒ No man in sox denies comforting knowledge of wearing 'em milled
☒ Patients scared sacred is the verdict on cells C.D.C.-certified killed
☒ set upon para-nucleic structures acidic pathologically-thunk sealed
☒ Mercifully a fattened Elvis crapped-out from a bloated heart stilled
☒ 2 farmers flea volcanic plains before furrowed meadows are tilled
☒ The Acámbaro Figures and Kensington Runestone aren't canonical
☒ As they're deliberately omitted from all Apocryphal books Biblical
☒ Skirts barely below mons veneris calculate lust & lure systematical
☒ Seems the totality of items round coax contraband flicks cylindrical
☒ Dirt & smudges & wrecks the sea causes, rounded to what's conical
☒ The beautiful Teresa Teng sang of “Another rainy day in Nagasaki”
☒  I have seen films of her on bikes, on skates but not playing hockey
☒ The ease in which legs are compressed & unfolded at the cat house
☒ makes me hearken for unstuck Tuesdays at ye olde Erin cork house
☒ where fish are skinned like brave men tried in a federal court house
☒ while uncracked minds get cracked up at a ****** town crack house
☒ Tex & Rita (to Memorex): Die you schizogenetic offering by dawn
☒ in the dirt-bag opting of a love stymied beneath an undeterred lawn
☒ in starving memory to Dutch: a ray-gun-loving Reagan called Ron,
☒ that war-dodging acquaintance of stage-dead mummer **** Shawn
☒ whose crap-out was viewed by attending audience as a planned con
☒ but alas the gray ******* was, medico-legally, dead and gone
☒ To negrita ****** & Albanian trulls & stenographers he's just John
☒ Lewis Mumford wasn't motherly as now Mum is his name or 'cause
☒ The Myth of the Machine Vol II: The Pentagon of Power was tame
☒ Mumford's keen intellect is marginalized and therein lies the shame
☒ Finding competent help for a homosexual brain defect ain't so easy
☒ with local brain doctors buggering sailors till they're both as queasy
☒ as allergists with red noses because allergy tests make them sneezy
☒ Many 62-year-olds get a kick out of bowel surgery when it's breezy
☒ beneath palms labeled alphabetically: tree w, tree x, tree y & tree z
☒ When you date first a date-****** you expect date-**** on first date
☒ To love profoundly we must possess an inalienable, intractable hate
☒ while a chaste Chaz hefts gobs of food from fridge to stove to plate
☒ faster than down hill on oily rails screams a train obese with freight
☒ that'll whip mufflers Oprah & Gayle at their queerest galloping gait
☒ Without toilet paper, ****** rags would be gay Clint Eastwood's fate
☒ as his ***-lovin'-Bohemian-Grove-attending *** needs an **** mate
☒ with a deep ****** receptive to bath-house Clint's masochistic trait
☒ enhanced by a brutal sadism borne of a splintered Korean War pate
☒ he got from a bumpy flight aboard an Army Air Force bomber crate
☒ dropping him into Richard E. Byrd's North Pole hollow-Earth state
☒ Viceroy Mountbatten was in tall grass fooling with his swollen ****
☒ when ****** India emerged from her foreign-imposed-grave-pit rut
☒ to absorb a parting partition shot with a death by the thousandth cut
☒ in '47 while King George VI could not keep his blabber-mouth shut
I keep my neck below my head so that my head rests not dislocated
above Bruce Jenner's extreme estrogenetical ******* unabated
as the **** of A.C./D.C. have degenerated eclectical currents ******
I stuff my both nostrils with onion skins to obliterate feeling sneezy
My bleeding heart has been knotted, contorted & tangled dead after
finding that Frederique van der Wal works as a bouncer called Fred
My old heart's been knotted, mangled & tangled dead after learning
that Frederique van der Wal knocks heads as a bouncer named Fred
I wanna be your lesbian play-thing in ways digestively pancreatical
until I am gynecologically unfit to be your **** purely diagnostical
as from within our vulvae sprout puffy cysts fleshed pseudocystical
that swing on the periphery of benignant wens gone neoplasmatical
in Chicago slaughter houses where each & every delicious pig *****
on old concrete floors that are made no less **** by porcine *******
that pop unpropped as popped polyp polypus polypusi possibly pop
in fashion with cryptical fashion that sits slower than soles at a stop

— The End —