Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
6 days ago - Naruto the Last: Movie. Online English Sub. Full Stream.

COPY LINK FREE LAST NARUTO THE MOVIE>>>      

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l


[English Subbed] The Last - Naruto the Movie Online ...
COPY LINK FREE LAST NARUTO THE MOVIE>>>      

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l

tinyurl.com/l75yn8l
Hannah Beasley Feb 2018
It was my first time meeting A’s grandmother-
I brought her flowers
Laid out on A’s den floor I begun writing this poem
While A watches anime-
English subbed
We are supposed to be studying-
we did for a while but
E has been on the same page for half an hour
As C sits atop a table-
making bird noises from above
We move to the dining room
because A’s grandmother made noodles and egg rolls
E is ******* up his noodles like a vacuum
I don't blame him- they taste like Jesus
C sneezes so loud it makes everyone jump
I look around the table, thinking of the past year
And all the friends i've made
Love, Platonic love, is beautiful
- After Sabrina Benaim
Thibaut V Feb 2014
Demented is not a subordinate
grey
nor subbed to explain,
But instead every color there is
And self evident;
Cream:
Which is no tone
But texture to grow.

So stop with the divination
and calling my name

I'm right here

On this, honest
Double take
I'm looking forward

And not clinging to dreams
Ones I must obey and perform
the practice of wishful thinking for
in the name of
A mighty god

When I am right here

So stop the divination
And name Calling

I'm alright and I know it
I didn't need you to tell me that
I was another thing to worry about
Reluctantly finding the answers in my subconscious

I will sooth say
Loosening the gates
And letting all the folks in,
Into my humble castle
With exotic carpet hospitality
All are welcome

And we will be friends
And join forces
Without illusions of sums greater than wholes
But with a purpose to share what's worthless and worth all
This is a poem about social stigma's involving insanity and mental health. It concludes in describing how I personally have taken a new found look on it which in a nutshell assumes we are all crazy. For me, to be crazy does two things to a person- it can result in an ego where one might believe they are a god (stop with the divination and calling my name) and also a world where one is treated like the opposite ("" and the name calling). I philosophically believe the world only exists when you are aware of it and engage with it and thus are in fact god-like already. So to be treated like you are "crazy" is to basically acknowledge the power of your role in perceiving the world but are looked down upon for it as you realize everyone else abides by social controlled values and norms. As a result imagine a world where we function not in the cesspool of  hierarchy trying to be better than one another, but instead realize that we are each gods and goddesses in our own way and we should each be valued as such. I thus dream of a world that we may live in, in which we revere one another and value all types of people. This is a dream of a world I may offer and present to others and all may be welcome in and one that does seems so passive. So to speak I am now making active efforts to be friendly, welcoming, and accepting of people in the world and respect as such. This active effort is not one that derives from obeying a system but instead I am entirely responsible for.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2015
The morning was
a mountain

that had to be
climbed because

it was there.

She wasn't going to let
the mountain conquer her.

The whiskey helped.

She sat through endless
early morning TV.

She wondered if one could die
of endless early morning TV.

The gone cold fried eggs
with the subbed out cigarette

in its centre
like a flying saucer

invaded her
sense of self

"Is this what I've
come to...?"

she asked a mirror.

The mirror kept shtum .

The plate smashed to smithereens
on the cinnamon coloured wall

leaving a satisfying stain
resembling Argentina

trailing down like a Rorschach test
of how she was

feeling.

Another whiskey wouldn't
hurt...would it?
“Chasing angels or fleeing demons, go to the mountains.”
― Jeffrey Rasley, Bringing Progress to Paradise: What I Got from Giving to a Mountain Village in Nepal
Tuffy Mutombo Feb 2018
The greatest thing I have ever fixed
Was my mind on never letting you go
I subbed out my ego,
and evicted pride out of my heart,
just to make room for you and you alone

Now here is my heart
please handle with caution
who makes the world be in awe
I do not know if punishable by law
but literally isn't subbed but just raw
worth scooping a scene you just saw

Things they do isn't normal
I mean who could carry a train?I'm no superman
handsome an well-built with their leading lady
In times like tragedies they don't just run

thrilling and excitement just like what you can see
most of them are played in tv
or some you could just but in cd
or you could download if you're tired to go out obviously
N.W.O.-owned corporations promote the freshest of youthful faces
having Hillary F. Clinton lesbian relations in crowded public places
Moral citizens must subdue these shrub-scouts with military maces
then bind them together with cheap lamp cord, twine & shoe laces,
before scrubbing the scene clean to obliterate all ****-diving traces
from mobs bleeding the white-funded black & sallow yellow races,
they take up  phony causes in nine of ten clinically-disproven cases
running Manchurian patsies & *** kittens through menticidal paces
A rosy future belongs to normal people, the more normal the better,
folks who appreciate normal things: normal pets like an Irish setter
and paying a street ***** with cash because she's a chronic debtor,
and yet her ****'s an amiable fellow: truly a self-starting go-getter
who crochets booties for newborns & obeys some laws to the letter
How many movies in Maine feature a crapped-out Joan Fontaine?
How much glucosamine does a diseased cow's leg bone contain?
There were no gregarious bean bakers in Hooterville's Green Acres
nor big queen Quakers, fatuous lean takers, spliced spleen shakers,
seldom-seen fakers, farmers as keen rakers, men called teen takers
Low sugar metabolism makes a chick act like Portland Hoffa Allen
in that she'll scarf like a starved pig, piggishly hogging water melon
or muskmelon or any melon that Montreal-melon sellers are sellin'
to your average Trenton mobster, fugitive or romantic paroled felon
who'd **** with depleted uranium Arab babies by incessant shellin'
& get away with it because America's corporate media ain't a-tellin'
just like they didn't tell when 1-dollar milk sold for 1 buck a gallon
and Americans wondered if Michael Jackson & Billy Jean'd marry
civilly in Dominica even though he was a pæderastic-gay-bait fairy
preferring to make it with some 11-year-old paper boy named Gary
in the ***** fields of Michael Landon's Little House on the Prairie
where S.A.G. cows grazed to produce cream for N.B.C'.s T.V. dairy
that made Victor French's fancy ice cream: French vanilla & cherry
that even Melissa Gilbert couldn't resist, who was so often contrary
on the set 'cause her adolescent mood swings did menstrually vary
in the '70's when broads were sexier as they were much more hairy
than “Johnny B. Goode” singer & women's room spy Chuck Berry,
who married a cousin who was flittier than Heinz queer John Kerry
& 6 points stupider than the porcupine stooge: old anti-Christ Larry
who chose his sister-in-law's sister as the bride most likely to marry
whose dipsomania meant that she'd imbibe fortified wine & sherry
as one could be subbed for the other when all choices ain't arbitrary
within fashion statements decrying the sci-fi of Gene Roddenberry  
while taking pseudo-fictive writings as celestially lunar and literary
masterminded by T.V. cockroach from Hogan's Heroes: Bob Clary
Give to me the possession of my hormones back for full absorption
as I'm keen on resuming the bony splinter means of bone resorption
while admixed by neo-commixed protocols of bio-ecleptic sorption
Let's stomp sun-burnt faces 'cause J. Edgar Hoover was the riddled
manufacturer of Malcolm X from a ***** mulatto known by Little
who scrounged while Jersey burned its cheap, girly skirts for a tittle
No one plays guitar more melodically than does cuchi cuchi Charo
whose passion for nature out-natures that of the lovely Al Malinaro
& the crapped-out juvenile actor who was known as Frankie Darro
whom all Californians knew was as straight as the straightest arrow
unafraid to stay the course & to keep righteously straight & narrow
under the same moral code that's served so well María Mia Farrow
who has sworn off the making of stew using vole, llama or sparrow
yet not excluding the animal delicacies of pancreas & bone marrow  
enjoyed by robbers Bonnie Parker, Buck, Clyde & Blanche Barrow
who, as bandidos Mexicanos, were obliged to steal Mexican dinero
☹ A wild man's on the loose who's hurting tourism as a tourist ******
☹ He's tall & menacing like the guy on T.V.'s F Troop, Forrest Tucker
☹ A ****** is on the prowl and he's ******* tourists as a tourist ******
☹ He looks like that F Troop sergeant O'Rourke, actor Forrest Tucker
☹ A wild ******'s escaped from ******* prison & he's a tourist ******
☹ He is a bad ******* **** like the ****** on F Troop, Forrest Tucker
CHASING ANGELS...FLEEING DEMONS

The morning was
a mountain

that had to be
climbed because

it was there.

She wasn't going to let
the mountain conquer her.

The whiskey helped.

She sat through endless
early morning TV.

She wondered if one could die
of endless early morning TV.

The gone cold fried eggs
with the subbed out cigarette

in its centre
like a flying saucer

invaded her
sense of self

"Is this what I've
come to...?"

she asked a mirror.

The mirror kept shtum .

The plate smashed to smithereens
on the cinnamon coloured wall

leaving a satisfying stain
resembling Argentina

trailing down like a Rorschach test
of how she was

feeling.

Another whiskey wouldn't
hurt...would it?


*

“Chasing angels or fleeing demons, go to the mountains.”
― Jeffrey Rasley, Bringing Progress to Paradise: What I Got from Giving to a Mountain Village in Nepal
they come a penny a dozen
cheap
           copper
                        thoughts
there's a well full                                             ...somewhere...
but no one is thirsty for water anymore
so much Ciroc and Moscato
poppin' bottles and *****
poppin caps and pills
we've subbed out dreams for quick thrills
   eyes open or closed - I'm swimming
but no copper in my goals
I want gold  platinum        DIAMONDS
pay me well and I will sell you my well
full of watered down birthday cake
and wrinkled candles
those flames were blown out with childhood

— The End —