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"squirrelly" poems
She asked me if I had an answer Tequila's what I said She wanted to know my opinion Tequila, while in bed She said, where do you want to eat Tequila, on the patio, would be really neat She queried if the dress made her look fat Tequila, with it, and a matching hat She wants to know so many things Tequila's, all I know She gives me the squirrelly look Tequila, on the go I'll answer every question she will pose Tequila, knows I will Oblivious to the consequence Tequila, fits the bill
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Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
DUH! Tequila!
Rocky squirrel flew through the air Safely landing precisely where He wished. Caught glimpse as Shirley squirrel (Herself in front of car did hurl) Was nearly squished. Rocky had warned Shirley before Admonition Shirley chose to ignore- Cars can smite Such events reveal it's not merely heuristic Fatalities by car is greater statistic Than fatalities by flight
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Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 1:24 PM UTC
Squirrelly Shirley
tucked in tight, eyes wide and bright squirrelly in anxious anticipation counting sheep endlessly laying still to no avail tomorrow, filled with presents and cookies and Grandma's cookies tomorrow, "Oh boy! I've waited all year for this!" ...and the snow drifted peacefully to the ground. She crawls into bed with her husband's snoring head the day she tarried away: cooking, cleaning modern day Martha doubts arise, has she done enough? Is the table set just right? "Oh me, oh my! I must've forgotten something!" ...and the snow drifted peacefully to the ground. She inches wearily to her lonely bed she slips into her nightgown, red lying awake, her chest aching; empty tomorrow she'll be able to forget if not for an hour, at least a moment few she wraps herself in her Savior's embrace and closes her eyes ...and the snow drifted peacefully to the ground. ...as every Christmas wish was being fulfilled.
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Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC
Every Christmas Wish
***** lips that've been caressed, This is your Sunday best tattered denim, ***** plaid; This is his Sunday best too-short of a sundress hanging on an inked shoulder, This is her Sunday best sobbing, screaming, squirrelly; This is their Sunday best tear-stained eyes and a wrinkled blouse; This is my Sunday best
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 8:48 AM UTC
unLutheran
Wait and see people, when the power goes out, it's going to be a freak show. Ya know, it goes out for only an hour & people get totally squirrelly, they get really agitated, start squawking. Imagine a week to ten days. It ain't going to be playin' yahtzee, Personally, I'll be going on the offensive, if you don't take the initiative, the hooligans are going to come and take all your **** by force. I saw three headless bodies once, hands tied behind their backs, it was a ****** affair. So listen up folks, this picture of peace & calm is only a facade, it hides the animal inside of all of us. I've seen them. Most people are ravenous wolves in disguise.
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
Ravenous Wolf People
You have the same name as my dead lover, that is why I cannot be close to you. It's not your fault, I know. It's just that that dead lover is my most recent dead lover. Having so many dead lovers is something endemic to these times. Up to now, we have survived a plague, yes, but it has left a more than squirrelly effect on me. Not just me, also. There are other squirrels. We scuttle about in certain circles, mostly running into each other at survivor groups. I've not seen you pass through, but since you're here now, hello. I know you're hurting, it's why we walk through that door. How did he pass? Were you with him at the end? How long were you together? You see, this is how it goes here. So, would you mind not sitting so close and gazing at me that way, I'm still readjusting to the sound of your name. I'd rather marvel over you from afar at this present moment. We can be nuts for each other later. Ok?
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
Diacritic Loving (Dating After AIDS)
my back hurts and i have no lotion to soothe the pain and alleviate the aches that crack within the walls of this treasured illusion. pointed remarks by dicators slip from the tongues of squirrelly amusements and feast within the belly of hanged entrails. the last of us are starving and the few that have remained will be shot down like a gross animal among the astonished herd
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May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 1:41 AM UTC
lady in a hallway somewhere in east asia
Those critters are squirrelly, living in an exposed den & slinking around the wooded neighborhood as if they're unseen by me. Little do they know, despite their cleverness, the blending in of their furs, I track all their movements. If they knew, I'd been privy, watched everything they do, then perhaps, perhaps they'd come out of their own denial.
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
Even Foxes Are In Denial
no apparent fear while above the fragrant trumpets focused leaps transpose a twitching tail, "i need to be here....no there...wait, here!" at least that's what seems apparent to me. realistically, there is no above while here there is no fear in focused leaps or nervous movements, "i am home, it is spring, there is food!" at least thats what i would think if i were a squirrel today. instead, i am me. thinking about why Pepsi would try to appropriate a social movement to enhance their public image. why they would waste money on advertising at all, because everyone knows what Pepsi is and how it tastes. Instead, I'm trying to understand why there was more public outrage over a stupid commercial while toxic nerve gas is being used against our foreign families. Why anyone was subjected to unspeakable crimes against humanity. Why has there been such little outcry about that? Why couldn't Pepsi use their advertising budget towards securing a better world so people could enjoy their product? Why can't a corporation influence political world leaders. I mean some business' already do. Most Nations are just corporations anyways. I think about these things and wonder who is better off: the squirrel that leaps fearlessly from branch to branch, the dead that suffered needlessly, or an American that thinks too much about these things. I think I'd rather be the squirrel. Instead, I am me.
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Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 5:55 PM UTC
my squirrelly rant
Out corner of my eye it sauntered slowly past not large and nonthreatening my mouth agape, aghast I'd heard the neighbors talk they said it lived round here a creature made of myth but hardly worthy, fear I figure it a coyote mixed with mangy cur grey in patches fur-less a squirrelly saboteur More the pity felt no pack or companion a lonely silent hunter down in Chupacabra Canyon
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Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
Third story, from my back porch (or Chupacabra Canyon)
I find it sometimes relaxing not hard, or over taxing meditating, in the yard as my doggy guards He strikes the oddest poses his best, one supposes showcasing all his talent so regal, and, so gallant Parading his small kingdom a canine type, of wisdom squirrelly, the rodents tease from the fence line, and the trees I lose all concentration at his consternation confounded and confused and all the squirrels, amused
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Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 8:59 AM UTC
Rodential Contemplation