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"squirted" poems
boo croon the sunflowers and **** squeaks the jay this garden was not tended to and when it was, it was done with bitter blisterless hands the weeds are creeping out now and thickening stalks and they move out out out goes any sense trust we grew in this garden. and out out out goes my frothy yellow blood into the humid grounds of the garden and you mop it up and glaze over my barkless parts boo croon the sunflowers and **** squeaks the jay the hose to feed me was bent at angled corners and the water shrieked its way through to come out a subtle flaccid drop by drop by drop on my parched cracked tan sun slapped skins and i was angry that you never felt the need to untangle the hose because you turned the faucet to full volume so you assumed that was all the water you could give and i needed boo croons the sunflowers and **** squeaks the jay the garden is all sand colored and tired and you don’t feel guilty you looked at it every day and squirted what you could on it and picked whatever weeds you saw but you never went beyond what looked pretty to visitors and you let the roots rot across the summer and now that the winter’s fallen in there’s not enough water to keep the garden beating and all the melted snow in the world won’t make up for it
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Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 11:21 PM UTC
boo croon the sunflowers
Her only vice was that of ****** promiscuity You couldn’t blame her—the girl had daddy issues, Body issues, the blood red American  bit her lip, and hit a rip, then 
flicked the tip 
Don’t blame her she blamed herself enough, she Popped, snapped, snorted, puffed, ****** squirted A sweet escape hypodermically inserted Straight to the               heart of Texas  She had her lo               ng list of exes Vices collect                   their dues.
0
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 12:14 PM UTC
Only Vice
I was fairly drunk when it began and I took out my bottle and used it along the way. I was reading a week or two after Kandel and I did not look quite as pretty but I brought it off and we ended up at the Webbs, 6, 8, 10 of us, and I drank scotch, wine, beer, tequila and noticed a nice one sitting next to me - one tooth missing when she smiled, lovely, and I put my arm around her and began loading her with ******** when I awakened at 10 a.m. the next morning I was in a strange house in bed with this woman. she was asleep but looked familiar. I got up and here was one kid running around in a crib and another one running around the floor in pajamas. I picked up a letter addressed to one "Betsy R.", so I went back and said, "hey, Betsy, there are kids running around all over this place." "oh Hank, **** it, I'm sick. I want to sleep, not rap." "but look, the ..." "make yourself some coffee." I put the *** on and the little boy ran up in his pajamas. I found a shirt and some pants and some shoes and dressed him. then I cleaned a bottle with hot water, filled it with milk and gave it to the kid in the crib. he went for it. then I went in and squeezed her hand. "I've got to go. are you all right ?" "yes, a little sick. but please don't feel bad." I called a yellow cab and we went back across town. is this what happened to D. Thomas ? I thought. if a man didn't think too much he could be proud of his little conquests - except that the women were better than we - asking nothing as we squirted our poetry our ******** our ***** to them. we were sick poets sick people. across town I knocked on the door of my host and hostess. "what happened ?" they asked. "nothing. got lost." they sat a beer in front of me and I drank it as if I were wordly: a piece-of-ass any-night anywhere type. "somebody got a cigarette ?" I asked. "sure, sure." I lit up and asked, "heard from Creely lately ?" not giving a **** whether they had or not.
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4.3k
New Mexico
I was fairly drunk when it began and I took out my bottle and used it along the way. I was reading a week or two after Kandel and I did not look quite as pretty but I brought it off and we ended up at the Webbs, 6, 8, 10 of us, and I drank scotch, wine, beer, tequila and noticed a nice one sitting next to me - one tooth missing when she smiled, lovely, and I put my arm around her and began loading her with ******** when I awakened at 10 a.m. the next morning I was in a strange house in bed with this woman. she was asleep but looked familiar. I got up and here was one kid running around in a crib and another one running around the floor in pajamas. I picked up a letter addressed to one "Betsy R.", so I went back and said, "hey, Betsy, there are kids running around all over this place." "oh Hank, **** it, I'm sick. I want to sleep, not rap." "but look, the ..." "make yourself some coffee." I put the *** on and the little boy ran up in his pajamas. I found a shirt and some pants and some shoes and dressed him. then I cleaned a bottle with hot water, filled it with milk and gave it to the kid in the crib. he went for it. then I went in and squeezed her hand. "I've got to go. are you all right ?" "yes, a little sick. but please don't feel bad." I called a yellow cab and we went back across town. is this what happened to D. Thomas ? I thought. if a man didn't think too much he could be proud of his little conquests - except that the women were better than we - asking nothing as we squirted our poetry our ******** our ***** to them. we were sick poets sick people. across town I knocked on the door of my host and hostess. "what happened ?" they asked. "nothing. got lost." they sat a beer in front of me and I drank it as if I were wordly: a piece-of-ass any-night anywhere type. "somebody got a cigarette ?" I asked. "sure, sure." I lit up and asked, "heard from Creely lately ?" not giving a **** whether they had or not.
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75
My sister never had any boyfriends which was quite surprising really you know because she had a nice pair of knockers and a very cute little **** on her but never once a gentleman caller came knock knock knock on her friendless portal. So I asked her what was the ******* score that no butch lads wanted to part her bush and whyfore was she not barking for it in a vague manner of ******* speaking and she told me to glue my keen peepers on her keyhole the next night to find out. Thus I knelt down before her bedroom door my eye glued to the appropriate hole with a full view of her "sleepezee" bed on which she casually lay spread out legs opened like a major T-junction and then her friend appeared to my rapt joy. I gasped in wonder as her lesby love straddled my **** sis and gave her tongue a good chance to lick out her womb entrance causing me to indulge in self-abuse as their eager mutual *********** gave way to some red hot ***** action. (I hope they didn't hear the noisy splats as I squirted my lovejuice onto the doorpost) Good taste, eh?
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 7:22 AM UTC
Lesbian Love Through The Keyhole
Almost ruined it I think she's worthy of a contract my bad you put up with my nonsense. But I'm calm since you entered in my lineup-- and Common Sense says how about you Come Close Never mind the chill from the shoulder I would give ya I was younger immature I was failing all my chores and I thought nothing more than when you gave me my allowance and I squirted on your flowers you're my flower girl But instead of just waking down the isle baby, you on my mind fighting crime and my trust issues Not limited to one type of style, she got a closet full of weapons-- no misuse Margiela couldn't handle all this fire power your glass pumps on the dance floor Cinderella so before I seize the moment on this final hour let me start by being true to your Pink Matter.   See I'ma always try to steal a smile or take your heart so I'm trynna be your criminal no subliminal I said I want you front and center with your melanin skin like Tia or Tamera I've got my grove back I'm feeling kind of Stella got me quitting all my games Michael Jordan after wizards I've finally taken interest so I saying what we doing with this, you finally got me so I'm saying: I do.
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Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 12:49 AM UTC
Wedding Vows (Spoken Word)
Adios England's Venus flytrap May you ever overflow inside our rectums You were the ornament that inserted itself Where spunks were pelted to pieces You ********** in the open air to our promontory And you squirted to those inside ******** Now you reciprocate to Abraham's ***** And the black holes crack spew out your barber's pole And it seems to me you tasted your ***** Like a cigarette lighter in the diarrhoea Never drooping with knobs on the cherry lips When the ooze congeal within And your smells will always regurgitate here Along England's juiciest blast—offs Your cigarette lighter's exploded spew out long before Your whiff ever go the whole hog Voluptuousness we've jiggled These frenzied wombs of time needing your clenched fist This lava lamp we'll always get pregnant For our breed's fair—haired brats And even though we have a finger in The clean breast seduces us to moistness All our foghorns cannot **** The ecstasy you stimulated us throughout the age groups
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Apr 2, 2010
Apr 2, 2010 at 3:21 PM UTC
Cigarette Lighter In The Diarrhoea 1997
# You chased I ran You yelled I turned You swung I ducked You huffed I pushed The back of your ankle caught on the underside of a gnarly root You twirled I watched. You screamed I watched.. You bled I watched... You gasped at air I watched.... The old jagged branch penetrated through your squishy eye and kissed the back of your skull blood burst and squirted while the rise and fall of your chest slowed and your body grew cold A rose bush was born amidst the clutches of an early winter I left You haunted I cried You permeated I stayed silent You spoke in my dreams I know they found you I visit and leave you flowers But I am through, I finally convinced myself that it's not my fault. #
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 8:43 AM UTC
A Rose Bush in Winter's Grasp
It was hot, so ******* hot. My house was hotter than *** with a wool sock. Of course, there was only one course of action I could take, get naked. And so I was naked. Later that day, I was walking to the kitchen, when suddenly, my belly button started to itch. I looked down, and out of my bell button, crawled an enormous, hairy tarantula. I immediately slapped the tarantula off my stomach, and crushed it with my bare foot. It crunched beneath my foot, and its slimy being squirted everywhere. Then, my ear started to itch, and out crawled, another tarantula. Soon, my throat began to itch, and my nose began to itch, and my ******* began to itch.. I don't know why my ******* were itchy, but, anyway, tarantulas began crawling out of all the holes my body had. Then, my **** began to itch. "NO!!" I screamed. But my words had no power, and out crawled more tarantulas from my **** I slowly fell to my knees, as the tarantulas poured out of my lifeless body. I did not know what to do, so I ran to the back of my house, opened the glass slider, ran onto the back deck, and jumped off. Sadly, this did not **** me, and I only broke both my legs. The bones were sticking straight out of my knees, and tarantulas began crawling out of my open wounds. I soon began to choke on the tarantulas, suffocated, and died.
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Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 2:24 AM UTC
Tarantulas
Today she broke down crying into a watermelon, and as her spoon dug deep into it's tasty flesh, tears collected in the corners of each eye. And as the juices squirted onto her hands to run down her arms, her shoulders shuddered. And she cried. And she didn't know why. why why why why       She whispered. Her lips moving to repeat over and over again. And I stood near to her, and watched over her. But I could do naught for her, or her chest heaving, racked with sobs. And her eyes gazed heavily somber. And her lips trembling, cracking, disappointment. And her spirit falling, crumbling. I watched her all the while, and stared, where a woman, a strong woman, had confronted her inner demons, and lost; and was replaced by a shadow of herself.
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Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
Remnants of a Shadow
Hello little fly lying there on the ground Did you ever stop to think what end would come around? Did you ever wonder how it may all end? What kind of death that fate did wait to quickly your way send? Most of the time generally you get old and die All the buzzing stops at once, and in silence there you lie Another common way in which you may have died Is when your inside someones house and they spray insecticide You start to get all dizzy and fly iratically As the chemicals penetrate and affect you dramatically After a few seconds though, you stop flying around at all On your back you spin around break dancing there you sprawl Another way that's quicker and happens just like that Is when you're swiftly swatted and you insides go 'Ker-splat!' That is rather messy as everyone can see All your guts and blood get spread. Oh my goodness me! All your little entrails and intestines so fine And look at that. Your blood is red! The same color as like mine! Sometimes there are even eggs that get squirted out A death and an abortion, simultaneously no doubt There's also an electric zapper that does a real fast job Twenty thousand volts that your life from you does rob You simply explode and your parts vaporize Into fly mist without any time to say your last goodbyes But the slowest and most gruesome by far seems to be The fly strip that beckons you with a smell of food for free As soon as you land there thinking it's a treat You find yourself stuck there by your six little feet The more you struggle though, the more the glue does bind But it seems to take very long, you for death to find Sometimes you squirm there for oh so many hours Sometimes so stuck moving would take super powers And then what is this grossness that I see Little tiny baby worms squirming out of thee I wonder if they realize that you're in trouble dire And decide to abandon ship to escape the deadly mire I guess it is that you flies have no morals or loyalty The only thing on your minds survival seems to be
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Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 4:05 AM UTC
Oh My Fly, How Did You Die?
Hello little fly lying there on the ground Did you ever stop to think what end would come around? Did you ever wonder how it may all end? What kind of death that fate did wait to quickly your way send? Most of the time generally you get old and die All the buzzing stops at once, and in silence there you lie Another common way in which you may have died Is when your inside someones house and they spray insecticide You start to get all dizzy and fly iratically As the chemicals penetrate and affect you dramatically After a few seconds though, you stop flying around at all On your back you spin around break dancing there you sprawl Another way that's quicker and happens just like that Is when you're swiftly swatted and you insides go 'Ker-splat!' That is rather messy as everyone can see All your guts and blood get spread. Oh my goodness me! All your little entrails and intestines so fine And look at that. Your blood is red! The same color as like mine! Sometimes there are even eggs that get squirted out A death and an abortion, simultaneously no doubt There's also an electric zapper that does a real fast job Twenty thousand volts that your life from you does rob You simply explode and your parts vaporize Into fly mist without any time to say your last goodbyes But the slowest and most gruesome by far seems to be The fly strip that beckons you with a smell of food for free As soon as you land there thinking it's a treat You find yourself stuck there by your six little feet The more you struggle though, the more the glue does bind But it seems to take very long, you for death to find Sometimes you squirm there for oh so many hours Sometimes so stuck moving would take super powers And then what is this grossness that I see Little tiny baby worms squirming out of thee I wonder if they realize that you're in trouble dire And decide to abandon ship to escape the deadly mire I guess it is that you flies have no morals or loyalty The only thing on your minds survival seems to be
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38
"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head" the woman's voice was cheerful and playful as she threw a glass of cold water in the unconscious man's face.  "Wha, wha, what happened?  Did I fall asleep?" asked the man.  As the man opened his eyes he tried to move but couldn't.   Looking around he realized he was in an upright position eagle spread.  Each wrist and ankle was shackled, locked, and chained.  "I'm not into locks and chains. I'm the one paying for ***  You have to do what I want" said the man with slurred speech. "Poor, poor, little man I'm not a **********  I just pose as one on the internet and in the streets.  That's how I get pigs like you" said the woman with an evil grin.  "I know you didn't think a woman as beautiful as my wife would be interested in someone like you" said a tall figure as he emerged out of the darkness behind the shackled man.  With fear in his eyes the shackled man asked who they were. "My name is Linda Locklear and this is my husband Rusty Locklear" said Linda.  "Enough with the small talk.  Linda go get the work tools" said Rusty.  "As you command daddy" said Linda. Walking past their victim into the darkness Linda grabbed the cold steel push cart and brought it to Rusty.  "Will you just look at all these toys" said Rusty with his eyes lit up like a child at Christmas.  "What do we have here? " said Linda.   Reaching her arm out over the items on the push cart in the motion of a snake Linda became sexually aroused.   "We have a hammer, scalpel, acid, nail gun, and an ice pick" said Linda with her voice filled with excitement.   ******* himself their victim began to cry. "Linda this is your victim so you have to inflict the first wound" said Rusty.  Responding to Rusty's words Linda picked up the nail gun.  "Linda you don't have to do this" pleaded the man.  "I have kids that I provide for.  My name is Timothy Yates.  I have a wife said" Timothy. Linda silenced Timothy with a swift kick to the testicles.  "Look Rusty it actually think we care about its pathetic little life" said Linda.  Placing the muzzle of the nail gun on Timothy's foot Linda pulled the trigger.  Firing a hard sharp nail into Timothy's foot blood squirted into the air. Written Keith Edward Baucum
0
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
The Locklears Chapter One
"Wakey, wakey, sleepy head" the woman's voice was cheerful and playful as she threw a glass of cold water in the unconscious man's face.  "Wha, wha, what happened?  Did I fall asleep?" asked the man.  As the man opened his eyes he tried to move but couldn't.   Looking around he realized he was in an upright position eagle spread.  Each wrist and ankle was shackled, locked, and chained.  "I'm not into locks and chains. I'm the one paying for ***  You have to do what I want" said the man with slurred speech. "Poor, poor, little man I'm not a **********  I just pose as one on the internet and in the streets.  That's how I get pigs like you" said the woman with an evil grin.  "I know you didn't think a woman as beautiful as my wife would be interested in someone like you" said a tall figure as he emerged out of the darkness behind the shackled man.  With fear in his eyes the shackled man asked who they were. "My name is Linda Locklear and this is my husband Rusty Locklear" said Linda.  "Enough with the small talk.  Linda go get the work tools" said Rusty.  "As you command daddy" said Linda. Walking past their victim into the darkness Linda grabbed the cold steel push cart and brought it to Rusty.  "Will you just look at all these toys" said Rusty with his eyes lit up like a child at Christmas.  "What do we have here? " said Linda.   Reaching her arm out over the items on the push cart in the motion of a snake Linda became sexually aroused.   "We have a hammer, scalpel, acid, nail gun, and an ice pick" said Linda with her voice filled with excitement.   ******* himself their victim began to cry. "Linda this is your victim so you have to inflict the first wound" said Rusty.  Responding to Rusty's words Linda picked up the nail gun.  "Linda you don't have to do this" pleaded the man.  "I have kids that I provide for.  My name is Timothy Yates.  I have a wife said" Timothy. Linda silenced Timothy with a swift kick to the testicles.  "Look Rusty it actually think we care about its pathetic little life" said Linda.  Placing the muzzle of the nail gun on Timothy's foot Linda pulled the trigger.  Firing a hard sharp nail into Timothy's foot blood squirted into the air. Written Keith Edward Baucum
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9
Black ink squirted in my eye, Too close as he passed by, Crusty barnacles, reachin' up and out, Scratch my beluga belly, swimming distracted, always on demand, dump me in the deep end of the ocean, off of dry land, Is the only solution, IF you put me in a bind, with chains and anchors, then I could escape the twenty four hour me, baby. ©ClemC072013
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Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
Now the downside of the topside (this is not a good day)
i walk you to class, our stubby legs powering through the hallways. i try so desperately to keep my hands on my books, although the digits reach towards yours on their own accord. we walk, laughing at your friends. i know i’ll be quite late to class, i always have to push it. if i had it my way, neither of us would attend first period. your baggy clothes would come off, the constricting binder would go on. i’d fix up your hair and make you feel comfortable. i’d give you a sweater of mine and i’d whisk you into my soccer mom van. i’d drive us far away, my hand glued to yours the whole way. we’d go out, ignoring stares and just being. we can’t do that here. here i can’t even call you mine. i have to spend 8 hours without seeing you and 8 hours without holding you it’s like i’m spending 8 hours without loving you. that’s why i walk you to class. you go to freshmen biology while i go to college level composition. you take french one, i’m in spanish four. i drop you off. super christian Abbie gives me a look. but god, i’d love to see her face if i had it my way. i’d pin you up against someone’s locker, preferably hers, and call you mine, claim you as me, you’d be mine. we wouldn’t care. Abbie’s face would contort into a sour look like someone squirted lemon juice in her mouth, her mind searching for bible verses to condemn us with, her hands already grasping markers to scrawl “god hates **** in big angry letters on poster boards. but you’d be mine.
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Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 10:35 AM UTC
wanting to touch, having to hide.
i walk you to class, our stubby legs powering through the hallways. i try so desperately to keep my hands on my books, although the digits reach towards yours on their own accord. we walk, laughing at your friends. i know i’ll be quite late to class, i always have to push it. if i had it my way, neither of us would attend first period. your baggy clothes would come off, the constricting binder would go on. i’d fix up your hair and make you feel comfortable. i’d give you a sweater of mine and i’d whisk you into my soccer mom van. i’d drive us far away, my hand glued to yours the whole way. we’d go out, ignoring stares and just being. we can’t do that here. here i can’t even call you mine. i have to spend 8 hours without seeing you and 8 hours without holding you it’s like i’m spending 8 hours without loving you. that’s why i walk you to class. you go to freshmen biology while i go to college level composition. you take french one, i’m in spanish four. i drop you off. super christian Abbie gives me a look. but god, i’d love to see her face if i had it my way. i’d pin you up against someone’s locker, preferably hers, and call you mine, claim you as me, you’d be mine. we wouldn’t care. Abbie’s face would contort into a sour look like someone squirted lemon juice in her mouth, her mind searching for bible verses to condemn us with, her hands already grasping markers to scrawl “god hates **** in big angry letters on poster boards. but you’d be mine.
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23
She winked in her cute little bandana, was standing strategically by the keg, dressed non-discreetly in a very **** skimpy-bikini. The curls that wrapped around her drop-dead beautiful face accentuated her high striking cheekbones. Her lips moved in slow motion, the tip every now and then licking the edges of her pretty mouth. We made small talk about the weather and current songs. She kept telling me how handsome I was, her striking-eyes seemed believable, but I remained guarded, I had heard those lines before. The stars began to emerge as the sun sunk lower and she wondered if I wanted to walk with her, down to the edge of the ocean. The beer had me feeling more relaxed and I took her up on her offer. Down we walked, slowly to the water's edge, she taking my hand, telling me how strong my grip was. It seemed like we walked forever, but before too long, we were out of earshot of the band, the party was just a blip on the horizon. We looked to face one another, it felt surreal, she made me feel stellar, like we were having fun. The moment was ripe, I dipped her hair away from her full lips, placing mine on top of hers, our tongues met, my heart melted. There was a stirring below, a hardness found by her searching hands. As if on cue, she descended, unzipped my jeans rather quickly, took me fully into her mouth. She seemed expert, it was glorious, my eyes rolled back in my head, I squirted into her closed mouth, wrapped around her prize. She stood up, kissed me on my quivering lips, told me I was exquisite, the best she ever had, & I believed her. We walked back slowly, my arm around her slender shoulder, talked about the future. When we arrived back at the bonfire, things had heated up, the music was cranked, people were dancing like they had drank too much. She told she wanted to freshen up, asked me if I wanted a beer, I answered her affirmatively and off she went, back into the raucous crowd, in the direction of the keg. She never came back, I never saw her again, I never even got her name or number. I felt used, a bit heartbroken. I think she just wanted to **** me, then let me go free for personal reasons. It seemed rather one-sided, I was hoping we confide in each other. Strange how that happens both ways sometimes.
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Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 6:09 AM UTC
Strange How That Happens Both Ways Sometimes (Feeling Used)
She winked in her cute little bandana, was standing strategically by the keg, dressed non-discreetly in a very **** skimpy-bikini. The curls that wrapped around her drop-dead beautiful face accentuated her high striking cheekbones. Her lips moved in slow motion, the tip every now and then licking the edges of her pretty mouth. We made small talk about the weather and current songs. She kept telling me how handsome I was, her striking-eyes seemed believable, but I remained guarded, I had heard those lines before. The stars began to emerge as the sun sunk lower and she wondered if I wanted to walk with her, down to the edge of the ocean. The beer had me feeling more relaxed and I took her up on her offer. Down we walked, slowly to the water's edge, she taking my hand, telling me how strong my grip was. It seemed like we walked forever, but before too long, we were out of earshot of the band, the party was just a blip on the horizon. We looked to face one another, it felt surreal, she made me feel stellar, like we were having fun. The moment was ripe, I dipped her hair away from her full lips, placing mine on top of hers, our tongues met, my heart melted. There was a stirring below, a hardness found by her searching hands. As if on cue, she descended, unzipped my jeans rather quickly, took me fully into her mouth. She seemed expert, it was glorious, my eyes rolled back in my head, I squirted into her closed mouth, wrapped around her prize. She stood up, kissed me on my quivering lips, told me I was exquisite, the best she ever had, & I believed her. We walked back slowly, my arm around her slender shoulder, talked about the future. When we arrived back at the bonfire, things had heated up, the music was cranked, people were dancing like they had drank too much. She told she wanted to freshen up, asked me if I wanted a beer, I answered her affirmatively and off she went, back into the raucous crowd, in the direction of the keg. She never came back, I never saw her again, I never even got her name or number. I felt used, a bit heartbroken. I think she just wanted to **** me, then let me go free for personal reasons. It seemed rather one-sided, I was hoping we confide in each other. Strange how that happens both ways sometimes.
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62
We tried something different this year A Thanksgiving day buffet I really like the leftovers though So I lined my pockets with cellophane To justify my actions As I stood in line With the twenty bucks I was paying   Would a little take out be such a crime Being a master of illusion I pointed and said is that Santa Claus While everyone was looking I filled my back pockets with cranberry sauce Things were running rather smoothly As we moved along I was stuffing everything from giblets to gravy down my drawers As if there was nothing wrong With tomorrows lunch now in my pockets I went back to the table to dine Forgetting the cranberry sauce in my rear as I sat I squirted the lady behind me in the eye Her husband jumped quickly into action He was a mountain of a man We'll just call him Everest I didn't have time to catch his name He picked me up and started shaking That's when my stuffing's came flying out Tomorrows meal went everywhere Splattering the entire dining crowed There was quite a ruckus As we chased around the restaurant It's going to be hard to get my leftovers back Now that I've lost my air of nonchalant As we were knocking over tables I got the idea to grab peoples plates Not wanting to be a spoiler of the holidays Out the door I hollered back... Have A Happy Thanksgiving Day!
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
The Thanksgiving Day Buffet
The Rubber Bunny flew through the air The Rubber Bunny gave me a scare So I punched it in the face It turned around and sprayed me with mace I lay on the ground quivering with pain The Rubber Bunny must be insane I got up and ran And Man oh Man! That rabbit ran as fast as he can The rabbit got tired and that slowed his run I was about to grab him when he pulled out a gun I got the gun out of his hand and my hand on his neck He pulled a knife, I said 'what the heck!' That rabbit was armed And I was alarmed He ran back to his hole in the ground I was mugged I found I didn't have my wallet And when I looked inside his home, I saw it I reached down into the ground It was my wallet that I found All of the sudden a sharpening pain From the teeth of that rabbit so insane I pulled my hand out with the rabbit too I tried to think what to do Once again I whacked him in the face This time he did not turn with mace, But with a grenade Before I could stop him he yelled ?raid!? Millions of bunnies came into sight, I thought to use all my might But they had overwhelming power I thought I’d be dead within the hour Grenades, mace, guns, knives These bunnies will destroy many lives Before I reached the edge of pain, I realized why they were so insane It turned out to be something funny All they wanted was my money The bunnies were about to attack I had a stick and I gave it a whack Blood squirted and I heard a scream I thought I wiped out the entire team But just when I thought I won the war There was another, and more, and more At about that time I had lost a thumb A finger or two, or maybe some I saw a rabbit go by with my toe I think it was the rubber bunny but I’ll never know And then with his teeth he pulled it apart And all of the sudden he struck for my heart At about that time the police showed And now on my chest a stitch is sewed And now I warn you to look out He’s still in America without a doubt.
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
The Rubber Bunny
The Rubber Bunny flew through the air The Rubber Bunny gave me a scare So I punched it in the face It turned around and sprayed me with mace I lay on the ground quivering with pain The Rubber Bunny must be insane I got up and ran And Man oh Man! That rabbit ran as fast as he can The rabbit got tired and that slowed his run I was about to grab him when he pulled out a gun I got the gun out of his hand and my hand on his neck He pulled a knife, I said 'what the heck!' That rabbit was armed And I was alarmed He ran back to his hole in the ground I was mugged I found I didn't have my wallet And when I looked inside his home, I saw it I reached down into the ground It was my wallet that I found All of the sudden a sharpening pain From the teeth of that rabbit so insane I pulled my hand out with the rabbit too I tried to think what to do Once again I whacked him in the face This time he did not turn with mace, But with a grenade Before I could stop him he yelled ?raid!? Millions of bunnies came into sight, I thought to use all my might But they had overwhelming power I thought I’d be dead within the hour Grenades, mace, guns, knives These bunnies will destroy many lives Before I reached the edge of pain, I realized why they were so insane It turned out to be something funny All they wanted was my money The bunnies were about to attack I had a stick and I gave it a whack Blood squirted and I heard a scream I thought I wiped out the entire team But just when I thought I won the war There was another, and more, and more At about that time I had lost a thumb A finger or two, or maybe some I saw a rabbit go by with my toe I think it was the rubber bunny but I’ll never know And then with his teeth he pulled it apart And all of the sudden he struck for my heart At about that time the police showed And now on my chest a stitch is sewed And now I warn you to look out He’s still in America without a doubt.
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can you really do it for 24 minutes?   i mean... really?                 try it some time,         i'm bored of the traditional stuff, this is what i meant in the first place, i need a mirror.                 i waited with her for 24 minutes until both of us squirted.         i'm just bored of the "traditional" **** simply bored of it...      but **** it's unfair... she has one of her hands initiating her ******** to goose, and the other hand with a *****   what the **** do i have?    hopefully a ******** in one hand...                   and a tissue in the other...                       and trying to keep up with her doing it for nearly half an hour...     i can usually do it in under 3 (minutes)                while taking a ****                      no scented candles, no video screening;           evidently women take more pleasure from *** and then double that pleasure while jerking off... while the men congregate and say: - mate, gym? - yep, spot you on the weights? - cool cool.                        what is this?! clearly it's a tier below being called a circus.
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Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 10:41 PM UTC
http://www.xvideos.com/video26440015/suck_and_squirt_on_dildo_-_sorexxx
I just needed to make a call Check in with the office **** pay phones never work Stealing all my money On dangerous street corners Where wary faces Suspiciously eye me Before yielding some space To another intruder And I have to watch them too Watch my back My eyes to the side That must be why I didn't notice Only wondered what made the Plastic so sticky Pressed up against my ear A nosebleed sick smell Those brown red spatters of Ketchup a kid squirted More there and there and Down on the ground A congealing pond More ketchup, I'm standing in it Then I realize it's not ketchup And I'm retching like I'll ***** Tell the office I gotta hang up Tight chest begins refusing Sin's air it will not breath in I'm loosing fast The mask The street face I put on Clenched jaw, tight lips Drowning man claws to surface For the safety of composure The faces, they're still watching They knew what I do now My grimy hand disgusts me Like a rotten stinking fish And I don't want to put it Back into my pocket To find that ****** car key But they own this corner, I just needed to make a call
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Sep 13, 2009
Sep 13, 2009 at 8:12 PM UTC
Just a Phone Call Away
Vernal breezes gently rocked the garden jhoola the blue sky vine looping across the butterfly bench created a festoon of stunning amethyst flowers Ram Namavali was approaching contemplating Him, Lion of the Raghu dynasty embodiment of dharma and source of bliss my heart and lips blossomed open a garland of melodious Ram bhajans perfumed the noonday air after the sweet singing session I did a few Yoga stretches and decided to pick some luscious black mulberries I approached the mulberry tree skyrocketing in the western corner of the backyard lifting large heart shaped green leaves I found one or two ripe berries “Hmm” I thought to myself I wonder what happened to all the mulberries? Parting another section of the tree, two orange speckled eyes met mine exploding in innocent wonder there seated nonchalantly on a happy branch was a pretty lil’ brown dove “So it’s you who’s been goggling all the mulberries!” I exclaimed caught “red-winged” the bewildered bird took off scampering across the sky I gathered my meager but delicious bounty added a few frozen blue berries squirted a heap of whipped cream then myself and Rama (the kitty) eagerly licked the platter clean
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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
Round the Mulberry Bush
five minutes can fit a magnum opus of sound between them so believe me when i say this five minutes can make a shotgun out of our two glances like the thickness of honey squirted into a glass five minutes are viscous slowing time into drips that entrench sweet shrapnel of this miracle bullet in our hearts and our heads. five minutes between us we're in love and we're dead.
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Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
five minutes
Be afraid; be scared yes for no one is ever spared. Into the burning chamber you go because no one ever cared. A raging inferno tale I tried it before, but again I must tell, Cause I skipped the parts of how, it also did smell. Trapped you are in a cement and stainless steel tomb Your body is then surrounded with a foul fume, Then suddenly it encompassed your room. When it’s all said and done, into a plastic bag, Zip tied shut held closed with a metal tag. That’s what is to become of you, and that is your final doom. Back to back I see them go and it’s happening all too soon. Electric sparks now ignite the poisonous vapor I did get a whiff, If you witnessed then what I saw next, You’d run away fast and then go jump off a cliff. Engulfed instantly in a blanket of about fifteen hundred degrees, I can read your lips and you were begging me, Pleading for mercy I heard you murmur, I tried to quench your thirst for thee. Dry, cracking and starting to blister you still managed to say please. Brain then begins to boil inside like a yoke in an egg. What is going on inside of here? I saw you thinking inside your head. Pressure building up like a volcano it had to erupt somewhere. It was something brutal, but it is now becoming a ritual. Out it all came it did, out your right eye. I saw the ball pop and then it all squirted into the sky. Smoldering ashes you are now, no longer can you stand up like a tower. Into the cauldron with spinning blades you enter into next, Turning your rubble into a powder now as fine as flour. Dragging magnets collecting all the surgical steel, Combing through then with fingers like having a metal detector Looking for all that precious metal and they did for about an hour. Waiting to put you in a jar they call an urn, I’ll pass for now, I skip my turn. (CARSr.5-29-12)
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May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 12:15 PM UTC
Stark Reality
Be afraid; be scared yes for no one is ever spared. Into the burning chamber you go because no one ever cared. A raging inferno tale I tried it before, but again I must tell, Cause I skipped the parts of how, it also did smell. Trapped you are in a cement and stainless steel tomb Your body is then surrounded with a foul fume, Then suddenly it encompassed your room. When it’s all said and done, into a plastic bag, Zip tied shut held closed with a metal tag. That’s what is to become of you, and that is your final doom. Back to back I see them go and it’s happening all too soon. Electric sparks now ignite the poisonous vapor I did get a whiff, If you witnessed then what I saw next, You’d run away fast and then go jump off a cliff. Engulfed instantly in a blanket of about fifteen hundred degrees, I can read your lips and you were begging me, Pleading for mercy I heard you murmur, I tried to quench your thirst for thee. Dry, cracking and starting to blister you still managed to say please. Brain then begins to boil inside like a yoke in an egg. What is going on inside of here? I saw you thinking inside your head. Pressure building up like a volcano it had to erupt somewhere. It was something brutal, but it is now becoming a ritual. Out it all came it did, out your right eye. I saw the ball pop and then it all squirted into the sky. Smoldering ashes you are now, no longer can you stand up like a tower. Into the cauldron with spinning blades you enter into next, Turning your rubble into a powder now as fine as flour. Dragging magnets collecting all the surgical steel, Combing through then with fingers like having a metal detector Looking for all that precious metal and they did for about an hour. Waiting to put you in a jar they call an urn, I’ll pass for now, I skip my turn. (CARSr.5-29-12)
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thick crispy outer shell processed corn laying crustily across one side crystals in a random array offering a Rorschach to those in love with toasters – steaming rectangle poisonous and tantalizing filled ever so carefully with fruit flavored nectar cleverly altered from a natural state of wonder and health into a spreadable gelatinous snot squirted into the afore mentioned crust – screeching children wild eyed and salivating only have 22 seconds before the commercial ends and Spongebob starts another zany adventure… a silent prayer escapes into the ether as another pop **** prepares to be pooped out –
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Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 3:28 PM UTC
sometimes a pop **** is a poem.... or vice versa'
A Key, an Envelope, and a Mouse I had just gone to the mail box, to pick up the mail riding in my golf cart, with my mouse by my side the key was in my left hand, when I tried dodging a snail I tipped to the left, then to the right, everything I tried the key flew away, I grabbed my mouse by the tail but it was no use, watched a pole and my cart collide the envelope squirted the other way, reaching to no avail I bounced out the other side, and landed right on my pride I was lying flat on my back , with my arms I did flail I hurt my neck, no my arm, no, I think I might have died maybe I had to much to drink, just one too many ale maybe it was actually more, my brain was pretty fried people were now starting to gather, wondered if I needed bail they were gasping, and yelling, help him up somebody cried the mouse was licking my face, I heard someone mention jail could not get my *** to budge, no matter how hard I tried the envelope was stuck to my head, so was a roofing nail think I must have wet myself, an idiot, this can't be denied the key was found up my **** when removed I started to wail holy mama mia I yelled, it was stuck and had to be pryed tipped my cart back on its wheels, the engine sang a funny scale you sure that you're ok, I'm just fine, you know I lied grabbed my key, my envelope and mouse, and outa there I hi-tail pretended nothing had happend, and continued on my ride Gomer LePoet...
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Jul 15, 2010
Jul 15, 2010 at 4:40 PM UTC
A Key, an Envelope, and a Mouse
you said you were very into me So I said "So long, loneliness," to Spring Hall Convert and squirted fat tears That limber man you met sang to my kicking legs And hand waggling for help, "Raaaadiaaaation" Oh, you look so dismayed on the stairway to the green hall I close my eyes as a gift Because I remember that face
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Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
why didn't I go see deerhunter with you
We sailed counter-clockwise Through black water and pumpkin sprees, Dangling footnotes of bookend conversations The closest thing to clarity in speech-- But we understood the solar flares and the sunspots And when our bodies sank into dank swampy muck, There we were in cold moonlight Naked and shivering and sweet, the whole balance Of cosmic radiation flung skyward, like It was all right then, it was all right now, everything is Like in that movie we watched apart but Somehow also didn’t, like how the time I tripped On that drug you were on, my friends and I burnt our fingers Making stupid fortune cookies All so contrived, but the morning before the pumpkin sprees I found a fortune on the ground that didn’t even come from my cookie So, like it asked me to, I took a chance And discovered that it wasn’t just my chance to take, cuz There we were scrubbing our legs in bathroom sinks and showers Trying to clear the muck away from skin and hair but the dirt Was so persistent, and the persistence Was so telling… Regardless Of how many green globules of antibacterial soap We squirted onto our legs, the world just wasn’t going to get clean, I mean The world just lends itself to filth, and sometimes You have to set the soap down and cry, or walk outside To see the sunrise Over the distant hazy hills, The sunspots and solar flares All suddenly laughable Despite their previous profundity. And even if it wasn’t just my chance to take, Still, I’m glad I picked that fortune up off the street and Read it quietly to myself, standing there with countless People passing by.
0
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
Solar Flares & Sun Spots
We sailed counter-clockwise Through black water and pumpkin sprees, Dangling footnotes of bookend conversations The closest thing to clarity in speech-- But we understood the solar flares and the sunspots And when our bodies sank into dank swampy muck, There we were in cold moonlight Naked and shivering and sweet, the whole balance Of cosmic radiation flung skyward, like It was all right then, it was all right now, everything is Like in that movie we watched apart but Somehow also didn’t, like how the time I tripped On that drug you were on, my friends and I burnt our fingers Making stupid fortune cookies All so contrived, but the morning before the pumpkin sprees I found a fortune on the ground that didn’t even come from my cookie So, like it asked me to, I took a chance And discovered that it wasn’t just my chance to take, cuz There we were scrubbing our legs in bathroom sinks and showers Trying to clear the muck away from skin and hair but the dirt Was so persistent, and the persistence Was so telling… Regardless Of how many green globules of antibacterial soap We squirted onto our legs, the world just wasn’t going to get clean, I mean The world just lends itself to filth, and sometimes You have to set the soap down and cry, or walk outside To see the sunrise Over the distant hazy hills, The sunspots and solar flares All suddenly laughable Despite their previous profundity. And even if it wasn’t just my chance to take, Still, I’m glad I picked that fortune up off the street and Read it quietly to myself, standing there with countless People passing by.
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