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"subs" poems
I last saw her in Santiago ******* drunkenly in a Sub urban taverna parading conceited pride in a twisted union with that ********  heinous maniacal harlequin each in vainglorious throes of their imagined septic mindfuck Debauch celebration of collaboration of succubus and incubus Some days she is saying Haloa in Hawaii adorned as Sainti Maria the ***** now as Madonna spewing words like a dove acting like a Nun in a Convent the fiendess with two faces hiding her ****** like the ace in lace the malignant serpent crawling in the duality of her neurosis I last saw her in Santiago In a sanctity of the poisoned insecures with exiguous minds consumed with flaming fears she begs acceptance for inclusion ******* for percieved reflected glory from her fathers' jailers The subjugated souls of chai wallah lives on in grandchildren So when Santi Maria flirts from honey to beehive Ready to ***** and part thighs and brain for minor pointing gun Feel sorry for a damaged child devoid of a prime core never made only obeisance to past rulers whose discarded cast-offs she wears Her poems  enchants but its virulent tools she takes in her body I last saw her in Santiago A slaved two-faced pretender who sings like a nightingale In sub urban dives she postrates to friendly pats and gropes Melting creeps and hot tigers begging subs for a heady drink Brilliant yet blindsided to **** on knees as her children will too Copyright@LaurenceA20thSept2018Allrightsreserved.
0
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 9:03 PM UTC
I Call Her Santiago.....
Sorry to... Hit yo noes like a brick of green Like the grass that grow nourished by the Celtic saints that know Man tell a lie better make it true if you don’t, then what do I make of you? Now Wonder Woman no wonder were human bringing Brooklyn some thunder hoodlum My baited brown eyes look up and down you Mile marker .66 and I’m still hitting this crisp as a chrysalis you may be the eyewitness of my fist to this more like the wittiness of my pen tip dipped in ambergris I get around you get the gist healing hands I mend the cyst with broken hands I gripped the rich don't understand don't worry like Krishna I persist zzzz Slept on like The buzz of viciousness **** the violence turn the red to VIOLET just look right through my eyes slit Now and then divine feminine deigned to grace my face again turned fake eyes to grin false pride, double subs, and sin. Complete appreciation, genuflected form reflected in this fertile goddeSS who puts the seeds in season She see through SnakeS and reedS when She based in wiSdom reaSon designed to take the basest race from darkest depths to airs of divine space till we’re flushed with grace some are hushed by my ace in the whole I'm a S33ker throwing axes but YOU better only call me an axehole when I mis s . ***** simple as this.
0
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC
[Divine Feminine] On ze road again.
look at those utters now do as i say your gaze melts my ***** **** my **** all day your really pretty i will love your *** i dont mind if its ****** what i would do for your ***** You may be the slave but i love your feet i could kiss them all day aren't they sweet so your the slave and im the master come lick my *** can you do it faster i will **** you and hurt you when ever i please ill stick my **** inside you i dont like a tease i love yourl ******* more then i can stand i could lick it all day it never taste bland i want it up i want it down if i cant have it i get a frown it taste so good i never get enough i eat it up better then a cream puff if something comes out of it i really don't mind i love caviar but not in a jar its truly religious could it be god incredibly delicious i know it sounds odd your ******* is cute it sends me to bliss can i prey to it what about **** oh yeah i love **** to i kiss it all night yummy yum goo you say its real tight ok ***** and toes now im in tears god i love subs especially whoes yes i love ankles o my lord i love feet kiss then 4 ever aren't they sweet when i see **** my **** gets so hard i like them all sizes but i don't need a yard then comes the men-strum for only 3 days its my very favorite time i love it always if your a lady and don't give it up and get all ****** go get a pup if you don't think so i wont be around i love ***** ***** all tied and bound so come to me sub i love you i do lets go to bed i wana **** you :) xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
0
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 4:43 PM UTC
LOVE SLAVE...dirty ***** ...do not read...explicit
look at those utters now do as i say your gaze melts my ***** **** my **** all day your really pretty i will love your *** i dont mind if its ****** what i would do for your ***** You may be the slave but i love your feet i could kiss them all day aren't they sweet so your the slave and im the master come lick my *** can you do it faster i will **** you and hurt you when ever i please ill stick my **** inside you i dont like a tease i love yourl ******* more then i can stand i could lick it all day it never taste bland i want it up i want it down if i cant have it i get a frown it taste so good i never get enough i eat it up better then a cream puff if something comes out of it i really don't mind i love caviar but not in a jar its truly religious could it be god incredibly delicious i know it sounds odd your ******* is cute it sends me to bliss can i prey to it what about **** oh yeah i love **** to i kiss it all night yummy yum goo you say its real tight ok ***** and toes now im in tears god i love subs especially whoes yes i love ankles o my lord i love feet kiss then 4 ever aren't they sweet when i see **** my **** gets so hard i like them all sizes but i don't need a yard then comes the men-strum for only 3 days its my very favorite time i love it always if your a lady and don't give it up and get all ****** go get a pup if you don't think so i wont be around i love ***** ***** all tied and bound so come to me sub i love you i do lets go to bed i wana **** you :) xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
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77
You already know why I'm here don't you? I would tell you but you are so smart, Probably heard all this before Here comes the lies The pattern of my life I am happier now a days I can see more light than ever before Its like life really wants me Can relate with me so well When I smell the fresh air I know that there is still a world for me In the city or in the subs Someone is there I haven't fantasized in a long lime Its been months since my last urge I have never attempted, not even once You know me I smile and I laugh My eyes are dry If I need to cry, The tears will come My poems are getting happier too You can feel the sun It radiates from the words, The verbs, The nouns, And the pronouns, You really know how to help me The music is so fresh My sleep has never been better I am glad that I feel better I would tell you if anything was wrong I trust you I know you want to help I have never been happier Waking up I know is a blessing You have helped me in every way
0
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 6:14 PM UTC
lies for my therapist
.   •  they say light- ning never stri-   kes •  twice in        the very same           place•not as               if it chooses                   the  person                       it likes•nor                           has it targ-                                  eted a familiar face • growing   accustomed to these repeated                       jolts•i stay fro-                zen in anticip-            tion•for subs-        equent influx      of volts•is th-  is love or me- re petty infa-     tuation?•ca-                n't believe my luck • be-        cause  time...  and again,                       inevitably•i                stand here,             apparently         struck•e-    very  ti- me you cast a...     a gla-         nce                at                    •                       ME•                               .
0
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
Jolt
The machinesed drones droning ozones made of homogenised genes by replicants from clinical doctrines and empirical indulgences Soulless and efficient, bred for duties destructives Capitalist fodder, programmed ready for earth's **** Regulate as required, inputted subs with pigs hearts Made followers with voracious appetite for blood mechanised barbarians on leash with one track mix Human shire horses in designer shods and faulty gauges Manufactured manufacturers limited and corollated Factories, dormitories partnered with like, watered and bedded till tomorrow, audiod to the Sterling whip Given ample ales, keep blinded and chained Distract and cater to baser instincts, *** *** *** Free 'love' free *** valueless values, what values Enjoy kids must return to work desk seven on the dot Time is money, clogs and production waits for no man, do or your pleasures denied Money, money money, honey for bees, honey for drones Soulless, dehumanised, pale, aged at thirty, heart attacks next Vacuous ghost programmed dunces Malfunctioning entities devoid of humanity Superficial plasticated robots, destruction default Industrial pieces with industrial minds Chemicalized drunks with wired brains They roam around screaming freedom and power!
0
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
Our Erstwhile Robots in Gucci......
quanta is better understood outside of physics, on a grander scale - quantum is a quality suggestion that makes two (to, too) things auto-suggestive as pertaining in the matter - never mind - take the concept of quanta out of physics and you get a man readying himself for a controlled coma having his wisdom teeth removed, with the anaesθetician asking about the readers' digest, the patient replying quo vadis? / dokąd idziesz? then the great sleep plateau - 'where are you going?' puts any man off, whether boxer, or paediatrician - ****** lays dead floored for a minute, plays the dog game: play dead, tongue hanging ready for a guillotine. CHOP! and there goes the tail of a Doberman (jamnik / dachshund on stilts) and a ρoττł-                     y                     woo woo woo chim chimney                     cha cha cha ooh the rotting wail - rottweiler -                                                     -ειλερ; you never mention the u with the v due to the chisel ease, then again, you don't say double-o'h but say double u - too shay frowning at a shave; ****** i'll make your language my playground given all these post-colonial ***** aiming for a signature and credentials, this **** could pass the London brigade, but take it to York, it would be a massacre of a bureaucratic lapse of credentials... a viking invasion more-or-less; oh **** quantum physics, Charles Dickens and the Victorian Era - Jack the Ripper the antonym, both are the desired cages of energy requiring expression to make testimony that such an age existed, a particular congregate of expression, never universal, boxes and pockets, however much inside one is a question of your dietary requirement, quantum physics is better explained with history than hard science, and atoms, or the craze of subs, people need a bigger picture, not everyone own a ******* microscope or a telescope, teach quantum physics using history: Philippe Augustus of France mattered, at the Battle of Bouvines - Otto IV? not so much.
0
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:45 PM UTC
Doberman and a Dachshund on stilts
quanta is better understood outside of physics, on a grander scale - quantum is a quality suggestion that makes two (to, too) things auto-suggestive as pertaining in the matter - never mind - take the concept of quanta out of physics and you get a man readying himself for a controlled coma having his wisdom teeth removed, with the anaesθetician asking about the readers' digest, the patient replying quo vadis? / dokąd idziesz? then the great sleep plateau - 'where are you going?' puts any man off, whether boxer, or paediatrician - ****** lays dead floored for a minute, plays the dog game: play dead, tongue hanging ready for a guillotine. CHOP! and there goes the tail of a Doberman (jamnik / dachshund on stilts) and a ρoττł-                     y                     woo woo woo chim chimney                     cha cha cha ooh the rotting wail - rottweiler -                                                     -ειλερ; you never mention the u with the v due to the chisel ease, then again, you don't say double-o'h but say double u - too shay frowning at a shave; ****** i'll make your language my playground given all these post-colonial ***** aiming for a signature and credentials, this **** could pass the London brigade, but take it to York, it would be a massacre of a bureaucratic lapse of credentials... a viking invasion more-or-less; oh **** quantum physics, Charles Dickens and the Victorian Era - Jack the Ripper the antonym, both are the desired cages of energy requiring expression to make testimony that such an age existed, a particular congregate of expression, never universal, boxes and pockets, however much inside one is a question of your dietary requirement, quantum physics is better explained with history than hard science, and atoms, or the craze of subs, people need a bigger picture, not everyone own a ******* microscope or a telescope, teach quantum physics using history: Philippe Augustus of France mattered, at the Battle of Bouvines - Otto IV? not so much.
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50
What rhymes with love? Can I **** and say dove? then you say a word "Camera", Now I'm thinking to ride a Chimera! Common is the guitar, now you want to play a Sitar, as you watch movies with subs, cute anime overdubs, Up early as three in the morning, you notice mosquitos are roaming, with last night's hangover, walked clumsy like a moon rover! I am a person of rhymes, until you ring those chimes, Until you hear an angry gerbil, I love you much ar
0
Jan 7, 2011
Jan 7, 2011 at 4:41 AM UTC
Angry Gerbil
The air conditioner hiccups, as the second half of Cole Berlin crosses himself-- a face deeply creased by consequence, looks to the west, a surrendering sun fractured-- broken by hundreds of stories-- tons of concrete-- mountains of glass, and the gentlest gloom. Mr. Berlin's body devours itself-- as the critics and even the diehard fans run out of time to play "remember when". The reality enters, at first no more than an annoying stomach pang, then growing, feasting, shouting, until each cell knows-- no time for the comeback. Whatever beams of sun were once banded, now dismiss themselves, as night subs in-- Mr. Berlin, closes the curtains of his mind, falls to the floor, "Sorry folks, no encore this time". A week he lay festering, no more a replica-- only a ruin. A fly in a web, rotating on a world without end, the record, it spits, skips, smolders in ditch, contaminating the soil, the virus gently purrs perfection, no hiccup, no hallucination-- only swag up for collection.
0
Mar 14, 2011
Mar 14, 2011 at 7:12 PM UTC
At the Gates (The Hotel Chelsea, August 1983)
ALERTS TO FINANCIAL AND MILITARY THREATS IN 2012 EUROPE By John Cleese (British writer, actor and tall person): The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent events in Syria and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A ****** Nuisance." The last time the British issued a ****** Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada. The Scots have raised their threat level from ****** Off" to "Let's get the ******** They don't have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years. The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide." The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability. Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides." The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose." Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels. The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy. Australia , meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be alright, Mate." Two more escalation levels remain: ****** I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend!" and "The barbie is cancelled." So far no situation has ever warranted use of the last final escalation level. A final thought -" Greece is collapsing, the Iranians are getting aggressive, and Rome is in disarray. Welcome back to 430 BC."
0
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 3:22 PM UTC
Hilarious Piece by John Cleese
ALERTS TO FINANCIAL AND MILITARY THREATS IN 2012 EUROPE By John Cleese (British writer, actor and tall person): The English are feeling the pinch in relation to recent events in Syria and have therefore raised their security level from "Miffed" to "Peeved." Soon, though, security levels may be raised yet again to "Irritated" or even "A Bit Cross." The English have not been "A Bit Cross" since the blitz in 1940 when tea supplies nearly ran out. Terrorists have been re-categorized from "Tiresome" to "A ****** Nuisance." The last time the British issued a ****** Nuisance" warning level was in 1588, when threatened by the Spanish Armada. The Scots have raised their threat level from ****** Off" to "Let's get the ******** They don't have any other levels. This is the reason they have been used on the front line of the British army for the last 300 years. The French government announced yesterday that it has raised its terror alert level from "Run" to "Hide." The only two higher levels in France are "Collaborate" and "Surrender." The rise was precipitated by a recent fire that destroyed France 's white flag factory, effectively paralyzing the country's military capability. Italy has increased the alert level from "Shout Loudly and Excitedly" to "Elaborate Military Posturing." Two more levels remain: "Ineffective Combat Operations" and "Change Sides." The Germans have increased their alert state from "Disdainful Arrogance" to "Dress in Uniform and Sing Marching Songs." They also have two higher levels: "Invade a Neighbor" and "Lose." Belgians, on the other hand, are all on holiday as usual; the only threat they are worried about is NATO pulling out of Brussels. The Spanish are all excited to see their new submarines ready to deploy. These beautifully designed subs have glass bottoms so the new Spanish navy can get a really good look at the old Spanish navy. Australia , meanwhile, has raised its security level from "No worries" to "She'll be alright, Mate." Two more escalation levels remain: ****** I think we'll need to cancel the barbie this weekend!" and "The barbie is cancelled." So far no situation has ever warranted use of the last final escalation level. A final thought -" Greece is collapsing, the Iranians are getting aggressive, and Rome is in disarray. Welcome back to 430 BC."
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36
Hop hopeless off the L searching for hell "works" "works" "subs" "subs" "Bars" "Bars" "Xanny Bars" The Avenue Chant Howl the diseased infected addicted **** The Avenue Chant an open drug bazaar is a beautiful thing for one playing the beautiful ***** Requiem for a Nightmare You ask what I need knowing what I want Hop down the corner You know the best spot they got the fire I got a house to burn You ask, can I get one? I think in first person with a laugh perhaps I would give you a leg for one I see you could use it We keep walking you keep limp, limp, limping down.... Cambria Crutches clacking off the littered decaying pavement The boys are out in town (when aren't they) the block is hot (as always) I wait around the corner You do my ***** business Our ***** business Everyones ***** business You swing back, deed done, dirt in hand awwww yeahhhhh the stamp is cobra I remember this **** mm. this **** is good The printed snake swims up and out siphoned from a tiny baby blue bag cleansing all insecurities, all fear, all humanity. We limp along You tell me how you ended up on these streets wife kicked you out, job fired you, veterans insurance cut you. The American dream as it looks, on Kensington streets, circa2013 etc. etc. etc I feel bad, but, not really, emotional skeleton, Numbed. I leave you with some rocks, not much, then go off kicking rocks all the way Redrocks H>O<W long can I continue without being caught in crosstalk. A skinny white privileged boy from the suburbs seeing his future trotting away before his eyes The everlasting haunting crouching limping creature of death A rotten old one legged ......junk Y
0
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 7:05 PM UTC
one legged *****
Hop hopeless off the L searching for hell "works" "works" "subs" "subs" "Bars" "Bars" "Xanny Bars" The Avenue Chant Howl the diseased infected addicted **** The Avenue Chant an open drug bazaar is a beautiful thing for one playing the beautiful ***** Requiem for a Nightmare You ask what I need knowing what I want Hop down the corner You know the best spot they got the fire I got a house to burn You ask, can I get one? I think in first person with a laugh perhaps I would give you a leg for one I see you could use it We keep walking you keep limp, limp, limping down.... Cambria Crutches clacking off the littered decaying pavement The boys are out in town (when aren't they) the block is hot (as always) I wait around the corner You do my ***** business Our ***** business Everyones ***** business You swing back, deed done, dirt in hand awwww yeahhhhh the stamp is cobra I remember this **** mm. this **** is good The printed snake swims up and out siphoned from a tiny baby blue bag cleansing all insecurities, all fear, all humanity. We limp along You tell me how you ended up on these streets wife kicked you out, job fired you, veterans insurance cut you. The American dream as it looks, on Kensington streets, circa2013 etc. etc. etc I feel bad, but, not really, emotional skeleton, Numbed. I leave you with some rocks, not much, then go off kicking rocks all the way Redrocks H>O<W long can I continue without being caught in crosstalk. A skinny white privileged boy from the suburbs seeing his future trotting away before his eyes The everlasting haunting crouching limping creature of death A rotten old one legged ......junk Y
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71
I hide my feelings & maybe it's not the smartest thing do, But it's mostly bc I'm a fool for you. I'm falling for the idea of you Not knowing the real you It's dangerous It excites me, but I've noticed it might not be the right combination of things .... It's the type of excitement where you're blind and don't care It's the type where you speak in subs bc you're afraid to speak your feelings It's the kind of excitement you don't want, but see I never really minded all that bc I still didn't know the real you & I'm not the type To judge just bc I really like you. In reality I gave you to much hype It wasn't fair to me bc I ended up tripping. See I forgot you told me your not a good catcher, but I still put my trust in you & I wanna beat myself up for thinking I ever had a chance with you.... I was and still am fool for you... I tried everything I could for you. I should've known it wasn't gonna work, from the jump one of us was already hurt. We want the same things, but we also lack the same things. I covet you... And it's wrong for you..... & me... I thought we were meant to be Just bc we're the same sign you & me. But just bc we're the same sign doesn't mean we can be the perfect mix. I wanted the idea of you. The thought that we were perfect me & you. The romance, the passion, the strength, the deepness, & .... & I was wrong.... I thought it was something that would make us fall together, but instead we fell apart without being together. I tell myself that we met the wrong way or maybe bc we live to far away, but then it hit me; if it was meant to be it would've been. See I believe things always happen for a reason. God knows who to put in your path and why he does it we only know after it happens. Idk why he put you in my path or why I was put in your path. All I know is after I met you I don't use that website I met you on, I don't look for anyone I wasn't really looking for someone in the first place. You just stood out to me. I took a chance ..... It didn't fail, it just needs real feeling or deep convos not lols or nahs ... In reality idk why I felt it was necessary to write all this you might not even read all this. ... I just hope that you take the time to read all this..
0
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Hidden Feelings
I hide my feelings & maybe it's not the smartest thing do, But it's mostly bc I'm a fool for you. I'm falling for the idea of you Not knowing the real you It's dangerous It excites me, but I've noticed it might not be the right combination of things .... It's the type of excitement where you're blind and don't care It's the type where you speak in subs bc you're afraid to speak your feelings It's the kind of excitement you don't want, but see I never really minded all that bc I still didn't know the real you & I'm not the type To judge just bc I really like you. In reality I gave you to much hype It wasn't fair to me bc I ended up tripping. See I forgot you told me your not a good catcher, but I still put my trust in you & I wanna beat myself up for thinking I ever had a chance with you.... I was and still am fool for you... I tried everything I could for you. I should've known it wasn't gonna work, from the jump one of us was already hurt. We want the same things, but we also lack the same things. I covet you... And it's wrong for you..... & me... I thought we were meant to be Just bc we're the same sign you & me. But just bc we're the same sign doesn't mean we can be the perfect mix. I wanted the idea of you. The thought that we were perfect me & you. The romance, the passion, the strength, the deepness, & .... & I was wrong.... I thought it was something that would make us fall together, but instead we fell apart without being together. I tell myself that we met the wrong way or maybe bc we live to far away, but then it hit me; if it was meant to be it would've been. See I believe things always happen for a reason. God knows who to put in your path and why he does it we only know after it happens. Idk why he put you in my path or why I was put in your path. All I know is after I met you I don't use that website I met you on, I don't look for anyone I wasn't really looking for someone in the first place. You just stood out to me. I took a chance ..... It didn't fail, it just needs real feeling or deep convos not lols or nahs ... In reality idk why I felt it was necessary to write all this you might not even read all this. ... I just hope that you take the time to read all this..
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16
How I miss it The taste of tequila Warm Acidic Slithering down the back of my throat Blooming hot in my limbs, Reaching each fingertip Numbing Bubbly sprinkle font Shrouding my brain In happy thought Carefree wistful abandon The burning choke Of refer flower Swaying my body to the Rhythm Of life THIS MOMENT His taste The beat of his drum Thumping Thumping Pounding Madness So caught up in him I no longer am Hooked Shared With his cosmic love Submerged in subs trance Lost to the essecence of the right now Def to the whispers of tomorrow In this moment I Exist As I have longed to To just be Me Carefree Floating on Cloud 12 Because Cloud 9 is full of want to be's Ignoring the rancid truth of reality Lost to it Within it Attention held by one and many The shuttering, shake of atmosphere His breathe the back of neck chill Goose flesh intensity Tangled in sensation Over-infatuation.
0
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 2:48 PM UTC
Over-infatuation
On Star Trek: TOS;  what u'll often see is an alien woman who can assume the guise of any & every woman or an army of beautiful duplicate women; these are fembot prototypes; apart from feminist Number One there are dominants & subs
0
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:30 PM UTC
Star Trek: ******* & Barbie
The kind of cars that I like, are those 87' monte carlos, subs big as aircraft carriers in the back. Gold spoke wheels, able to turn holes in the sky. Chameleon paint jobs, green and full in the sun, fading to black and glossy in the shadows. When I was a teenager, the kings used to ride by in the monte carlos with open windows letting loose a humbling roar so loud that it put ubiquitous vapors into the air. The neighborhood smelled like the thumping and the hard hum of their vibrating windshields. The kings always let the car slide slowly in neutral, and as they took stock of their domain, Their glossy gold fronts made you realize why gold was so important each tooth looked like a tablet of commandments. Our wife-beaters were stained with ketchup and other things that bleach could never get out, and we smelled funny. But the kings wore hawaiian shirts and smoked cigars. The kings were the preachers. One of the kings was Luke's brother, whenever he stopped at a corner we'd pile around putting our fingerprints everywhere until he told us to **** off, don't you have any home-training?" Luke would stand closest, squinting as he leaned on the driver-side window, all that bass hammering his bones. "How much did you pay for it?" Reggie would ask from the back, peeking his head over, trying to see the king. The king would smile, and say "enough." we'd all be rapt. He'd get a call on his cellphone, and we would come up with crazy numbers. Luke didn't even know how much was "enough". The kings held the secret of god and power. I wanted to be as close to god as they were, I wanted to know the secret to contentment. I wanted to come back home with money like the kings with gold teeth.
0
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 12:42 PM UTC
Monte Carlo.
The kind of cars that I like, are those 87' monte carlos, subs big as aircraft carriers in the back. Gold spoke wheels, able to turn holes in the sky. Chameleon paint jobs, green and full in the sun, fading to black and glossy in the shadows. When I was a teenager, the kings used to ride by in the monte carlos with open windows letting loose a humbling roar so loud that it put ubiquitous vapors into the air. The neighborhood smelled like the thumping and the hard hum of their vibrating windshields. The kings always let the car slide slowly in neutral, and as they took stock of their domain, Their glossy gold fronts made you realize why gold was so important each tooth looked like a tablet of commandments. Our wife-beaters were stained with ketchup and other things that bleach could never get out, and we smelled funny. But the kings wore hawaiian shirts and smoked cigars. The kings were the preachers. One of the kings was Luke's brother, whenever he stopped at a corner we'd pile around putting our fingerprints everywhere until he told us to **** off, don't you have any home-training?" Luke would stand closest, squinting as he leaned on the driver-side window, all that bass hammering his bones. "How much did you pay for it?" Reggie would ask from the back, peeking his head over, trying to see the king. The king would smile, and say "enough." we'd all be rapt. He'd get a call on his cellphone, and we would come up with crazy numbers. Luke didn't even know how much was "enough". The kings held the secret of god and power. I wanted to be as close to god as they were, I wanted to know the secret to contentment. I wanted to come back home with money like the kings with gold teeth.
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I downloaded Duolingo, thought, “Cool, I’ll learn some French!” But now that little owl got me living on the bench. I opened it for practice, just fooling around, but now I know Korean— about two hundred words down! I practice small sentences, I sound kinda neat, like (saranghae) — and sometimes (shebal!) in heat. Chinese is harder, I’ll admit with a sigh, but hey, twenty words— I can still order chai. I skipped one single lesson, just ONE—don’t roll your eyes, next thing I know he’s texting me: “Practice… or goodbyes.” I chase K-dramas nightly, my goal is quite clear: understand the crying scene before subs appear! But the owl is relentless, he haunts me in my dreams, taps on my window, and silently screams. I drill German phrases before I even pray, and sometimes I swear I hear him whisper: “Now… Italian with me.” So if one day you see me laugh, gasp, or freeze, just know it’s not me losing it— it’s that green-eyed nightmare telling me to learn… or else.
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Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 2:57 PM UTC
Duolingo Drama
the factory workers of my prefrontal cortex are on a raucous strike because, the train chugging them to lunch breaks at my amygdala has been broken down for days. and the now strained relay of packets of faxes from this neuron to the one all the way south on Abbey Lane, is creating untold pressure for Wernicke - so forgive me if i ask you to rephrase. despite the absent hoarded salivating mouths, the deli in my amygdala keeps on producing thousands of ******* italian subs, so now the place floods with grease-sweat from old meat that would make a carnivore remit... and it's seeping, leaking poison to Broca, who is now refusing to explain herself to the confused face projected on my retina's blurred screen. the mitochondria housed in my somatasensory are all comatose from last night's debauchery. so everything is still, numb to the touch blank on the face dead in the eyes - unaware of the incessant twitching that's rolling through my joints, muscles, skin, sore red thighs. every nucleus of every cell restarting again, again, again, but rebooting isn't clearing the glitch in the system. so just lie here with me, broken machine to broken machine - our hearts still glisten.
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
total system failure
Elizabeth, the ****** Queen, left vacant the English throne. Her Scottish Stuart cousin came and claimed it for his own. Two nations with one monarchy joined in the Union Jack. The Scottish lost their nationhood and now they want it back. Saint Andrews’ Flag of Bonnie Blue will have to be unfurled if Scotland votes to take its place among nations in the world. Quebecois and Basques today are eagerly looking on to see if Scots will vote to tell the English to be gone. Hadrian’s Wall will, once more, mark where their dominion ends. Remove your subs from Scapa Flow; your lease is at an end. There still remains a problem which, just now, occurs to me. If the English take their Pound with them, what is our currency? It’s true we’re rich with North Sea oil and better off than Spain. Yet how do we do business if the Sterling won’t remain. We need a new “Gold” standard based upon the single malt! Who needs pounds when we have ounces stored in barrels and in vaults? So pour me a “MacCallan” on the day the rent comes due. Hand me a glenfiddich and I’ll purvey food to you.. Our creditors will be well pleased with hints of bog and peat. We won’t dilute our currency as Scots men drink it neat.
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 8:24 AM UTC
Whiskey Business
Drug Sub War The drug sub became the new menace Replacing the Toyota engined powerboats And outdated drug running planes that got splashed Sleek, able to travel underwater More than the semi-submersible craft Using a snorkel like **** U-Boats did A group of foreign designers made them Contracted by the drug cartels To make an almost undetectable vehicle Costing millions fitted with both low and high tech gear Like GPS, night and day camera periscope and more Able to dive at will hundreds of feet below Remaining silent under battery power But they didn't realize how persistent the US Navy was Who specialized in hunting subs and now had a new opponent Not Red China or Neo Soviet enemy subs hunting American carriers It was Narco Subs from Central and South America Each one carrying between one and eight tons of drugs Pure Class A narcotics to **** North American youth The US Navy used P-3 Orions, P-8 Poseidens and anti-sub choppers To find the stealthy subs and take the appropriate measures Calling destroyers and frigates who chased the subs down Forcing them to surface with small depth charges When drug sub crews fought back with machine guns The navy sank them with all available weapons For this war war, a war of innocent versus guilty On the ocean no law court was needed...
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Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 6:39 AM UTC
Drug Sub War
Inside a mind that wasn't mine I somehow came to realize That where I took my thoughts before Would never matter anymore The roads I paved had disappeared And deemed me faulty engineer Disgraced the pace, upon my face She saw the wall and did not wait Suppose I'd tell you what to say You used to ask me every day And when I'd talk you'd tune your ears Then cover up in salty tears The sea would claim the life you lost Return to you the latter lot You held it close so many times And claimed the right to reconcile Yet here we are in subs and pars Collected into mason jars I'll shatter you, you'll shatter me Our fragile state will set us free
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Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
Keeping up appearances
Your long, smooth Soft surface, Subs against my Song smooth Nails and flesh bound Hands. You're so still, Still sticky and fresh, Your blood runs Warm Between my toes like sand, Beautiful mud. Angel, sleep i've Freed you. No longer twitching. You're so still you're so Porcelain. Clothing, gone, why are you so flawless? Ivory, red, Why are you so... dead...? Lay at peace and Accept my Embrace. You'll be saved but You remain at present To be Mine. Preserved and Sticky.
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Mar 15, 2010
Mar 15, 2010 at 10:41 PM UTC
Corpse
the empires that seep into the marrow of the bones breaking under the weight of ghosts from every time period leaden with unrevolted tools – unreal futures exchange on tomorrow collaterals echoes of empty homes unheard amid the jeering of parliament and bomb drops racket media revolving doors all’s for the taking when it comes to foreign resources or big business building walls and the means to defend them and to send people fleeing as if turning treadmills of off-shore profit in hoards and stomped on for state’s sake or fossil fuels which are like investment banking and nuclear subs: we do not need them, they will **** us all.
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 2:51 PM UTC
11/03/2016
I'm a just keep it 100% real. I'm from the part of town where the only time you acknowledge your hood is just before a fight. All I've ever known was lying about living in some rich *** neighborhood comes in handy until your disliked. Nobody cares about you unless you're pretty, rich or you scare them straight. 2 of my homies have died and 3 are getting life. So I show no respect to these rappers who rap about what goes on in our lives. How would you know looking at us behind your ICE? No subs just bars. But you won't know this struggle until you live ours.... This is for boys who act hard but cry behind closed doors, for the young girls who don't fit in, don't you know were the best kind of weird? These days will get brighter and my poems shall be happier. Dedicated to my friends who are trying to get happier...
0
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 9:41 PM UTC
Poem called Unedited Version.
The beauty and the struggle in loving, It’s really something, I love, loving. The affection, the passion, the slight imperfections of the affections I hold dear in my heart, It’s something authentic, There was a time when Jada and Will was the aesthetic…. But now I want nothing that resembles them, I want my own fairy tale a little like the ones on the movie screens, and the book shelves, One that shares the true beauty of love, And the beauty of struggle, The combination of both of them, that makes relationships real, Now a days I don’t see the balance, There’s more love, less struggle, or the complete opposite, All over media, there’s either this perfect picture couple, Or a toxic situationship There’s nothing passionate, affectionate, or authentic about it, This new age is all about “no labels” and throwing in the towel over the little stuff, Letting the struggle consume the love, over the little things, with arguing, and blocking, and posting subs, And It ***** because, there’s truly a beauty in the struggle of loving, It’s really something, I love loving.
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Oct 16, 2024
Oct 16, 2024 at 10:36 PM UTC
The Beauty and the Struggle in Loving
It won't be long now America will be attacked Nuked by Russian subs New York City Miami San Francisco Los Angeles & San Diego Will burn in one hour Russian, Chinese, and North Korean troops Will conquer and divide America The antichrist will cause the nations To make peace This charasmatic leader Then will come the chip A requirement for all people Those who refuse to take it Will be taken to FEMA camps And beheaded Repent from the place From which you have fallen And enter into a relationship with Jeshua There is only one truth Only Jesus can save you! The pope already goes on and says Those that have not accepted Jesus as savior Can enter into heaven He is a filthy liar Jeshua of Nazareth laughs in heaven At he plans of the antichrist And satan It was satan's pride That caused him to be thrown down Do not let your own pride Be the cause of your damnation Atheists, buddhists, all quite sure Of their own way Have had near death experiences And been shown the pit No one who practices homosexuality Will enter into heaven either It is an abomination in the eyes of Lord Jeshua Do you have any idea how many times You sin each day? Simply repent unto Jeshua, And turn from your ways Soon the world will he connected This AI system will have access to those Who take the mark on their forehead Or on their hand Take heart, for Jeshua is Lord! Repent unto Him For every knee will bow To Jeshua of Nazareth He is Lord of Lords And King of Kings
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 9:20 PM UTC
End Times Poem