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"sutra" poems
Guess what day it is That's right! It's Sunday! That fun day of the week That's very very unique I can finally let my lustful fantasies loose Basically today I can be a freak. So let's down to the nitty gritty What shall I lick first? Lips or T-ties? Shall I kiss you gently? Teasing you all the while? Or shall we jump to the chase And we make love while you're wetter than the Nile? What position first? Missionary or doggy style? Or maybe something crazy We haven't done this in awhile Or maybe we can take notes From a book called the Kama Sutra Believe me, there's a lot of ways I wanna do ya
0
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
Guess What Day It is..
Hey, met any hot chicks lately? Yeah, that peahen is looking at me, soon the others will too - not at you, buddy…Oh yeah.  Get real. Just wait till I display my train of shimmering colors and you’ll see the peahens making a beeline for me - and you’ll have to bury your head in the ground for shame like those silly ostriches do… All males have their self-esteem hurt in my presence, sure; you’re no exception – don’t feel too bad…you’re just bad… The last time I displayed my train, hey - I caused mayhem in the ancient Indian forests as the peahens went wild… that’s why they’ve placed a ban on me in the land and how I ended up in this reserve but I’m not the one to worry, yeah, brother you’d better step aside and let me show you how I call it the Kama Sutra of the Peacock  Gyrations - learn a bite or a posture and you might be able to put your gene-stamp on future generations… now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a thing or two to do with these peahens clamoring for a peck and a neck leading vigorously to do the mating dance with me
0
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 2:14 AM UTC
two peacocks in the Reserve
Entrenched in a red lotus, I find a blue one, mysterious blooming  in my heart, a white lotus eternal, rules my skies; **golden lotus dissolves thoughts,                                  gifts wings to transcend.**
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Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
Lotus sutra
With an azure drinking cup studded with lapis, wait for her In the evening at the spring, among perfumed roses, wait for her With the patience of a horse trained for mountains, wait for her With the distinctive, aesthetic taste of a prince, wait for her With seven pillows stuffed with light clouds, wait for her With strands of womanly incense wafting, wait for her With the manly scent of sandalwood on horseback, wait for her Wait for her and do not rush. If she arrives late, wait for her. If she arrives early, wait for her. Do not frighten the birds in her braided hair. Wait for her to sit in a garden at the peak of its flowering. Wait for her so that she may breathe this air, so strange to her heart. Wait for her to lift her garment from her calf, cloud by cloud. And wait for her. Take her to the balcony to watch the moon drowning in milk. Wait for her and offer her water before wine. Do not glance at the twin partridges sleeping on her chest. Wait and gently touch her hand as she sets a cup on marble. As if you are carrying the dew for her, wait. Speak to her as a flute would to a frightened violin string, as if you knew what tomorrow would bring. Wait, and polish the night for her ring by ring. Wait for her until Night speaks to you thus: There is no one alive but the two of you. So take her gently to the death you so desire, and wait.
0
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
Wait For Her (A Lesson From The Karma Sutra)
Palembang, 11 Juni 2012 Debu ini sudah lengket, tak bisa hilang Meski ku usap dengan kain dari ulat sutra Angin sudah terlanjur tertiup Aku tak sempat lagi tuk pakai penutup Petir sedari tadi mengamuk Aku hanya bisa bersembunyi di bawah selimut Banjir belum juga surut Hujan tak pernah berhenti sedetikpun Lampu belum juga padam Padahal lilin dan api telah aku siapkan Aku sudah siap menekan tombol Stop Padahal lagu masih panjang untuk dinyanyikan Aku belum juga tertidur Padahal aku sudah menentukan mimpiku Aku masih terjaga menunggu pagi Meskipun malam belum akan berakhir
0
Jun 11, 2012
Jun 11, 2012 at 10:45 AM UTC
Menyesal
Tuhade layi je ladna paya mainu taqdeera naal, Haske mai lad laungi tuhadi khushiyan waal. Tuhade waal je aaya koi dukhe ve, Saamne mai khadungi mahiye. Chhetti chhetti aaja jaane meriye, Bade cher tou tuhadi yaad aundiye. Ik pal vi tuhade baajo reha nai jiunda, Sab tou khushnaseeb haa mai tussi jo mile tohfa rabb da. Mai tuhadi si, tuhadi haa, tuhadi hi rahangi, Tuhade saaha naal hi sadde saah chalde jaani. Saddi har khushi tuhade naal ve, Tussi meri zindagi ** jaan aye meriye. Sadde ehsaasa ch vi rooh jiundi, Bin chue vi mehsoos kr lendi. Es pagli nu mera paglu hi samjh sakda, Tuhade bajo ek pal vi dil nahi lagda. Raatan nu neend ni aundi, Tuhade khayalan ch mai khoyi rendi. Tussi aisi nigaahan mainu takeya, Mere dil,rooh jaan ch bs ohi chehra vaseya. Sawere uthde vi sab tou pehla tuhada naam mai lendi, Tuhanu hi har janam mai os rabb kolu mangdi. Lawan baahan ch samet kaayenaat assi, Jado lawo sanu aapde seene naal tussi. Tuahde naal jahan sadda, Sab tou anmol tukda ** sadde dil da. Chand naal chandani je, Taareyan naal raat ve. Tuhade naal saddi har zindagi ve, Sacchiyan mohabbbatan tuhade naal la baithe. Jithe jithe tussi hove, Tuhade picche picche sanu hi pave. Tuhade naam assi kr ditta har janam, Har dadhkan ch tuhadi chahat haigi sanam. Saada har mukaam tuhadiyan hi raahan ch, Jeena marna sab tuhadiyan baahan vich. Bhaagan wali haa mai jo mileya saanu eho jeya mahiya, Mainu mera sohneya saddi jaan tou vi piyareya. Gale ch mangalsutra, Baneya raksha sutra. Tuhada naam jado sadde naam nu poora kareya, Tuhade kol mera dil ve sadde pyaar di nishaniya. Chhetti chhetti aaja mahiya le ja aapdi jaan nu aapda bna ke, Hatthan ch mehndi, baahan ch chudiyan, matthe tey sindoor aapde naam da bhar ke.
0
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 2:19 AM UTC
Jaan
Tuhade layi je ladna paya mainu taqdeera naal, Haske mai lad laungi tuhadi khushiyan waal. Tuhade waal je aaya koi dukhe ve, Saamne mai khadungi mahiye. Chhetti chhetti aaja jaane meriye, Bade cher tou tuhadi yaad aundiye. Ik pal vi tuhade baajo reha nai jiunda, Sab tou khushnaseeb haa mai tussi jo mile tohfa rabb da. Mai tuhadi si, tuhadi haa, tuhadi hi rahangi, Tuhade saaha naal hi sadde saah chalde jaani. Saddi har khushi tuhade naal ve, Tussi meri zindagi ** jaan aye meriye. Sadde ehsaasa ch vi rooh jiundi, Bin chue vi mehsoos kr lendi. Es pagli nu mera paglu hi samjh sakda, Tuhade bajo ek pal vi dil nahi lagda. Raatan nu neend ni aundi, Tuhade khayalan ch mai khoyi rendi. Tussi aisi nigaahan mainu takeya, Mere dil,rooh jaan ch bs ohi chehra vaseya. Sawere uthde vi sab tou pehla tuhada naam mai lendi, Tuhanu hi har janam mai os rabb kolu mangdi. Lawan baahan ch samet kaayenaat assi, Jado lawo sanu aapde seene naal tussi. Tuahde naal jahan sadda, Sab tou anmol tukda ** sadde dil da. Chand naal chandani je, Taareyan naal raat ve. Tuhade naal saddi har zindagi ve, Sacchiyan mohabbbatan tuhade naal la baithe. Jithe jithe tussi hove, Tuhade picche picche sanu hi pave. Tuhade naam assi kr ditta har janam, Har dadhkan ch tuhadi chahat haigi sanam. Saada har mukaam tuhadiyan hi raahan ch, Jeena marna sab tuhadiyan baahan vich. Bhaagan wali haa mai jo mileya saanu eho jeya mahiya, Mainu mera sohneya saddi jaan tou vi piyareya. Gale ch mangalsutra, Baneya raksha sutra. Tuhada naam jado sadde naam nu poora kareya, Tuhade kol mera dil ve sadde pyaar di nishaniya. Chhetti chhetti aaja mahiya le ja aapdi jaan nu aapda bna ke, Hatthan ch mehndi, baahan ch chudiyan, matthe tey sindoor aapde naam da bhar ke.
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44
Day and night vie for each other now, but the darker is winning; The moon mourns in her ruddy veil: tonight, the garden's wet by tears. Incredible, the attraction, of carbon for carbon. Even more, the attraction of carbon for gold. In the wild, they rarely bond. But in man, inseparable. Carbon and mammon: be not yoked, says the jewel diamond of our race. Who cares? The cross, an adornment nice. Mammon in mud? Silicon too, says the IT guy. Fullerenes in the sky: on this Guy Fawkes night, sparks truly fly. Carbon will **** for gold. This the oldest maxim of old.
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
Carbon sutra
All these silly stupid little trees dripping wet with awkward leaves, while I drip with smoke & write my loneliness with eyebrow pencils, idle in my idiocy & thinking of nothing else but thee, a banquet for the bony dancing boldly in the silence, made up with pale make-up & trafficking in tall tales, all these stupid ugly little people, they taste like disease, but even in a crowd all I see is thee.
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Sutra
Sable, the swallow rising as it banks over the white conduits of marrow in the body, rain slashes through the honey locust, along the long ellipse of its hunt as savage dragonflies rise from stems to cling, a deep sienna of doeskin tremors over their sting, catkins, an aftermath, melancholy to the skin soaked in white calla, its reticence assails the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me; for eternity is this moment, and the light you give cloaks me in a coat of flames, the burnt locust of slaughter, taunt the rubric of Christs hidden scriptures, as I night, the body, solely a vessel of shadow, returning through a field of windfall, ripe with wasps, echo you in me, a dream of a dream dream't, in the dim recess of light your lips close like a sutra over mine, a brutality of moments ground out of thick pine, as the fine agony of cricket ballets rise shivering, to stillness, this silence is a lotus, a blue psalm, throttles the throat, as a quorum of swallows gather between the swathes of sunlight and skewed shadows, and lift as one body, subsumed by our abandoned depths, out of exile, you have made me a homeland of truant light and as I night, lightning opens like scripture, a black plea, poured over some sore refuge, and so that I may never be restored, cloak me in a coat of flames, suffering an ecstasy of moments hardened in amber, over the white conduits of marrow in the savage body, writhe a black throng of swallows, assail the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me....
0
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 4:05 PM UTC
The Black Kiss
Sable, the swallow rising as it banks over the white conduits of marrow in the body, rain slashes through the honey locust, along the long ellipse of its hunt as savage dragonflies rise from stems to cling, a deep sienna of doeskin tremors over their sting, catkins, an aftermath, melancholy to the skin soaked in white calla, its reticence assails the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me; for eternity is this moment, and the light you give cloaks me in a coat of flames, the burnt locust of slaughter, taunt the rubric of Christs hidden scriptures, as I night, the body, solely a vessel of shadow, returning through a field of windfall, ripe with wasps, echo you in me, a dream of a dream dream't, in the dim recess of light your lips close like a sutra over mine, a brutality of moments ground out of thick pine, as the fine agony of cricket ballets rise shivering, to stillness, this silence is a lotus, a blue psalm, throttles the throat, as a quorum of swallows gather between the swathes of sunlight and skewed shadows, and lift as one body, subsumed by our abandoned depths, out of exile, you have made me a homeland of truant light and as I night, lightning opens like scripture, a black plea, poured over some sore refuge, and so that I may never be restored, cloak me in a coat of flames, suffering an ecstasy of moments hardened in amber, over the white conduits of marrow in the savage body, writhe a black throng of swallows, assail the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me....
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60
Coffee Heath Bar Crunch Will sabotage those taste buds, Like Dublin and its Mudslides. So blast off with that, Fossil Fuel, And don’t let me Catch you. ‘Cause I’ll keep you, My Maple Blondie. I’ll capture you, And hold onto, Those Cinnamon Buns. You’re the Crème Brulee, Of Chocolate Macadamia, And the Cherry Garcia, In my every breath. You’re the Chunky Monkey, To this Chubby Hubby; The Dulce Delish, for this Americone Dream. Can’t you see I’ve just got, A sweet tooth for you, And your Phish Food? Your Chocolate hair, Key Lime Pie eyes, Strawberry Cheesecake lips, And your skin is a delight, Much like Vanilla Caramel Fudge. Did Ben and Jerry create you? Please tell me they did! So I can eat you, With my cup of Boston Cream Pie, And I’d eat you all up, Well, Everything but the… Half Baked, Karmel Sutra, Which I’d lick, Like a cone of Cake Batter, And then dip into, Like Cookies and Milk. Imagine Whirled Peace, On top of this Mudpie, And then Split, Like a Banana. That’s the kind of Brownie Batter, I’d stir with you, And then add a scoop, Or two, Of Turtle Soup. And you would yell, PISTACHIO PISTACHIO! Where for art thou pistachio? And with a bowl of Peach Cobbler, And a spoon of Vanilla, I’d look at you, wink, and offer you a pint, of my Mint Chocolate Chunk.
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Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 1:42 AM UTC
Sweet Tooth
An opaque kiss, crept over his spirit, Drifted with petal-like grace, spilled warm In forget-me-not pastels; He enters The Dream'...... The soft breath of night Dusts lash-bound eyes with dream; There, Night mists wander a lace like solitude, Lost in euphoric infinity, Where his blue ripples speak waterfalls Pooling to silence... The moon tossed down a shimmering cloth, Her Midas light, turning his limbs to gold; A name, echoed softly, like river minutes, A winding breath, a tingled song of awakening, Of lullaby in whispers and nuance, Ghost-kissing the curve of an aching thigh... Crave induced, The magic in her hip-sway, crossed The arch of his dreams; Where she flowed half-held by darkness; A garnet flame flickering the Tussled locks of Autumn stained hair, Trailing her skin, like eager limbs parting A dream horizon's shore... Her impish August skin, Bathed him in words that woke his willing flesh, Tracing the haunted subtlety of desire; Here, amongst the echoes of the pulsing night, Heart to heart, breath to breath, Her fingers tenderly caressed delicate dreams on the silken hardness Of his shadow serenade... Passion coursed his blood, an esoteric tune Suckled the sweet sutra; Her taste, Burning the star of his mouth, Tasting the breath of moan, A song, Hovering like a silver bauble, drifting in past breaths, Sinking into chaotic bliss, deepening the eclipse of seductive fusion... His face, dark, breathed hot upon her psyche, A captive heart beating against his palm; "Be Mine" unfolds, While "Yours" is spread wide, refractive on skin, A brand, where fingers trace hips, slowly swallowing hidden breath; His tongue slide, afire with the heat of a thousand suns, and Rose tinted limbs scream, with eyes closed, And he watches as she burns....... Love came quietly as a whispered dream.........
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Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 2:18 PM UTC
The Dream:
An opaque kiss, crept over his spirit, Drifted with petal-like grace, spilled warm In forget-me-not pastels; He enters The Dream'...... The soft breath of night Dusts lash-bound eyes with dream; There, Night mists wander a lace like solitude, Lost in euphoric infinity, Where his blue ripples speak waterfalls Pooling to silence... The moon tossed down a shimmering cloth, Her Midas light, turning his limbs to gold; A name, echoed softly, like river minutes, A winding breath, a tingled song of awakening, Of lullaby in whispers and nuance, Ghost-kissing the curve of an aching thigh... Crave induced, The magic in her hip-sway, crossed The arch of his dreams; Where she flowed half-held by darkness; A garnet flame flickering the Tussled locks of Autumn stained hair, Trailing her skin, like eager limbs parting A dream horizon's shore... Her impish August skin, Bathed him in words that woke his willing flesh, Tracing the haunted subtlety of desire; Here, amongst the echoes of the pulsing night, Heart to heart, breath to breath, Her fingers tenderly caressed delicate dreams on the silken hardness Of his shadow serenade... Passion coursed his blood, an esoteric tune Suckled the sweet sutra; Her taste, Burning the star of his mouth, Tasting the breath of moan, A song, Hovering like a silver bauble, drifting in past breaths, Sinking into chaotic bliss, deepening the eclipse of seductive fusion... His face, dark, breathed hot upon her psyche, A captive heart beating against his palm; "Be Mine" unfolds, While "Yours" is spread wide, refractive on skin, A brand, where fingers trace hips, slowly swallowing hidden breath; His tongue slide, afire with the heat of a thousand suns, and Rose tinted limbs scream, with eyes closed, And he watches as she burns....... Love came quietly as a whispered dream.........
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49
I start ghost hunting at 5 am I catch little spirits which I eat with some butter and jam some days I'm lucky I catch old souls Cleopatra, Frank Sinatra, Adolf ****** reading the Kama Sutra If I don't eat them before they get into my head, they'll make sure I am dead.
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Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 2:45 AM UTC
Souls On Toast
The hermit and his hand Sticky fingers and solitude kama sutra of the fingers
0
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
****
How can I Falcon fly While I die In a web of lies Where they brutalize Us like flies We must communicate By connecting To avoid rumors of hate That are infecting The non-inspecting No problem detecting Yet happiness expecting Tyrant electing Issue deflecting Fascism respecting Public that's perplexing So the Internet should remain harmlessly neutral Instead of adding to our economic Kama Sutra Finding new ways to ***** each other Like restricting access to information So we won't hear the screams of our brothers To the rich and powerful's elation Dealing with this pseudo-fame Feels like a burdensome shame In order to listen to people I have to hear them talk But I fall into a deep hole When their ignorance is written in chalk Easily erased But also easily traced Yet not so easily faced Until we're easily replaced By the voices of our oppressors Promising to alleviate the pressure If we'll take a position that's lesser And never ask them to be a confesser Each electorate Must be kept separate And must be made desperate So take away their voices That should limit their choices The rich want to be molding the clay So they say to touch it you'll have to pay I can't sit here and stand it This particular predicament That's beyond my bandwidth Eating this **** sandwich Given by a grand witch So I add the name capitalist To my ******* list Which they seem to agree with They rationalize you have to be an ******* to survive They explain in business that's the only way to thrive Yet get upset when I call them the biggest ******** alive The Internet can do infinite good Yet it is minimized and misunderstood The faithless fathom It as a nameless chasm Made inside our rage filled cabins But they refuse to see the connections The healthy introspection And historical corrections They'd rather use deflection Mentioning mundane memes Or divisive digital teams They see the shell But not the turtle They put us in hell With a data girdle Everybody has the same capability to add to the Internet So they should have equal capacity to use the Internet Sometimes our economic systems make us act counterintuitively To what is fundamentally needed by our species Something humanity has never had before A comprehensive brain that can connect and inform us all We've seen money corrupt the minds of humans Let's not let it corrupt the mind of humanity
0
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
Data Girdle
How can I Falcon fly While I die In a web of lies Where they brutalize Us like flies We must communicate By connecting To avoid rumors of hate That are infecting The non-inspecting No problem detecting Yet happiness expecting Tyrant electing Issue deflecting Fascism respecting Public that's perplexing So the Internet should remain harmlessly neutral Instead of adding to our economic Kama Sutra Finding new ways to ***** each other Like restricting access to information So we won't hear the screams of our brothers To the rich and powerful's elation Dealing with this pseudo-fame Feels like a burdensome shame In order to listen to people I have to hear them talk But I fall into a deep hole When their ignorance is written in chalk Easily erased But also easily traced Yet not so easily faced Until we're easily replaced By the voices of our oppressors Promising to alleviate the pressure If we'll take a position that's lesser And never ask them to be a confesser Each electorate Must be kept separate And must be made desperate So take away their voices That should limit their choices The rich want to be molding the clay So they say to touch it you'll have to pay I can't sit here and stand it This particular predicament That's beyond my bandwidth Eating this **** sandwich Given by a grand witch So I add the name capitalist To my ******* list Which they seem to agree with They rationalize you have to be an ******* to survive They explain in business that's the only way to thrive Yet get upset when I call them the biggest ******** alive The Internet can do infinite good Yet it is minimized and misunderstood The faithless fathom It as a nameless chasm Made inside our rage filled cabins But they refuse to see the connections The healthy introspection And historical corrections They'd rather use deflection Mentioning mundane memes Or divisive digital teams They see the shell But not the turtle They put us in hell With a data girdle Everybody has the same capability to add to the Internet So they should have equal capacity to use the Internet Sometimes our economic systems make us act counterintuitively To what is fundamentally needed by our species Something humanity has never had before A comprehensive brain that can connect and inform us all We've seen money corrupt the minds of humans Let's not let it corrupt the mind of humanity
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78
gelap malam membuka mata hening pikir ku meraba cinta begitu banyak lembut dan kasar setajam sembilu selembut sutra angin bertiup menghempas debu debu kasar debu halus cinta kasih yang ku tuju tibalah aku pada dirimu
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 6:59 AM UTC
kasih..
Remember? The beginning, there was only darkness, right? How could he? He disturbed a still void, vacuum of light. Perverted instigator. Life was a weakness absent. The bible. Kama Sutra for how to twist our soft minds.
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
The Primeval Void (3/4/7 Challenge)
Waking in my room - pause and consider; should I leave the house today? Nobody would care. Nobody else at home. I've no good reason to. It's safe in here. I have my bed, my piano, things to distract me. It's a rare day that I want to leave the house. There's none to judge me here. Alone in my room, breeze arousing my curtains, but I'm not lonely. This is the place where I feel more comfortable than anywhere else. So maybe I'll just stay at home, write a poem or song. And just be.
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May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 6:01 PM UTC
Introvert haiku sutra
mila sedi na wc solji. prebira dlacice po brezuljku. nekako odvratno ali radoznalo trazi one pod zemljom gusto groblje-guste misli: dve prodavacice prodaju sok od sargarepe, na smenu- jedan dan jednoj plati jednu cenu drugi dan drugoj drugu. cuti. zakopa to u zeludac. guta vazduh namazan budalom. cuti. plati.  popije samar i sok. na ulici razmazano oker govno, kao kanapei na srebrnom tanjiru.   preskace, obilazi ga ona. preskace, obilazi ga i pas. kisa pada, oker krem gubi gustinu, pas nece pod kisobran juri senke i zapisava skupocene alo tepsije onih kojih se i pauk plasi. zanoktica o vrh narandzastog jezika- rekapitulacija popisanosti i pogresno usmerene finoce. krv stedljivo iz nokta curi natapajuci nepce a mrmlja da sledeci put ce... ali verovatno nece. jer ne razume tu gadnu nepravicnost. jer to je samo princip. mozda i hoce. jer princip je i sve. dopire krik playback narodnjaka- komsija stigao sa posla, investitor umesto izloacije sigurno je kupio dzipa. masina se centrifugom lansira u orbitu svake sekunde- privezala bi se za nju toaltet papirom.... aman, idi uci. bolje ces se osecati. kraj prozora cuje se ono dete sto svira trubu. makar jos ne moras da trazis posao. eto imas vremena da smislis sta zelis da budes. na kraju krajeva nemas urasle dlake. i da, auto ti je parkiran divlje pokupice ga pauk sigurno. i nemas dozvolu. kese za govna su u gepeku. trebas psa izvesti. sutra kupices sok od sargarepe, po ne zna se kojoj ceni. rekla bi imas princip a i lenja si.
0
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:01 AM UTC
smrt jednog dana
mila sedi na wc solji. prebira dlacice po brezuljku. nekako odvratno ali radoznalo trazi one pod zemljom gusto groblje-guste misli: dve prodavacice prodaju sok od sargarepe, na smenu- jedan dan jednoj plati jednu cenu drugi dan drugoj drugu. cuti. zakopa to u zeludac. guta vazduh namazan budalom. cuti. plati.  popije samar i sok. na ulici razmazano oker govno, kao kanapei na srebrnom tanjiru.   preskace, obilazi ga ona. preskace, obilazi ga i pas. kisa pada, oker krem gubi gustinu, pas nece pod kisobran juri senke i zapisava skupocene alo tepsije onih kojih se i pauk plasi. zanoktica o vrh narandzastog jezika- rekapitulacija popisanosti i pogresno usmerene finoce. krv stedljivo iz nokta curi natapajuci nepce a mrmlja da sledeci put ce... ali verovatno nece. jer ne razume tu gadnu nepravicnost. jer to je samo princip. mozda i hoce. jer princip je i sve. dopire krik playback narodnjaka- komsija stigao sa posla, investitor umesto izloacije sigurno je kupio dzipa. masina se centrifugom lansira u orbitu svake sekunde- privezala bi se za nju toaltet papirom.... aman, idi uci. bolje ces se osecati. kraj prozora cuje se ono dete sto svira trubu. makar jos ne moras da trazis posao. eto imas vremena da smislis sta zelis da budes. na kraju krajeva nemas urasle dlake. i da, auto ti je parkiran divlje pokupice ga pauk sigurno. i nemas dozvolu. kese za govna su u gepeku. trebas psa izvesti. sutra kupices sok od sargarepe, po ne zna se kojoj ceni. rekla bi imas princip a i lenja si.
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17
Obsessed with a cure Constantly distorting what occurs in nature Refining it. Mixing it with chemical burn concoctions. Covering every inch of green as far as you can see Growth hormones. Pesticides. Insecticides. Don't-care-if-the-bees-die-icides. Anything that can be sprayed on a crop for higher yields All they care about is production and profit Hundreds of new factories every year Pumping out quick acting gel tabs Filling the cabinets with placebos Close enough to the edge of science to not be considered god A two billion dollar a year industry To stay young Be healthy Not have to get off our fat, lazy, publicly ill-educated ***** To lose weight Nothing worth having ever came easy Your inability to learn from your mistakes takes over Watching the inevitable if not medicated decline of society DNA withering away to dust, until only shells are left Gaudy and virile played out right before us like a badly made **** Doesn't matter who is getting ****** You are still watching
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May 2, 2012
May 2, 2012 at 9:28 PM UTC
Pharma Sutra
The secret taste, my own hand is completing, ice cream. A private joy, the moaning, the fleeting, ice cream. My unplayed sonnet craves for a maestro's crescendo. A freezer’s siren song, I’m powerless, beckoning, ice cream My desires, untamed garden, unexplored, ignored, A frozen bliss, in pleasure's heat, I'm needing, ice cream. Remorseful echoes haunt my yearnings, an abandoned hall, Useless empty calories to be worked off, sinning, ice cream. A painter’s brush, my hands splatter ecstasy, uncontained, Flavor's colors, in pleasure's heat, dripping, ice cream. Wisp of my scent, a memory of vanilla and sea salt,  Sugar cone explodes, no napkin, fingers sticking, ice cream Imagined lover, I cup myself, between fingers, a slow pull, Creamy soft serve cup, caramel drizzled, spooning, ice cream Flavors of passion, spices of desire, I’m taste-testing, Wandering endless isles, reading labels, discovering ice cream. In pre-dawn mist, my sighs rise soft to kiss the sky, Candy sprinkles scattered on hot fudge; uplifting ice cream. Beneath the stars, my haven whispers, Gaia’s soothing grace,   In every touch, I find my truth, my love embracing, ice cream.
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Jan 10, 2025
Jan 10, 2025 at 7:07 PM UTC
The Ice Cream Sutra
Forever is hushed amongst sweet sounding rain; Murmured heartbeats; Turn a soft pirouette in the recess of mind; Moon-burn, silvered, permeates the rake of glittered stars; Your kiss carved into this heart... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; Lilies, wild and dark, Cool the blush of my cheek, a soft essence Purl-binding, touching my soul; A summons of wrists gently turned To show veins that lie beneath, Bleeding hushed words, Flowing, where The lull of nightfall, lays my hair between your fingers... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; The breast of the ****** moon-spill, A simple thread of heartbeat, a touch-tender upon lips Parted; You brushed me beautiful, So beautiful; I glitter… silk upon crimson, shining; Slipping, burnished, to your tease, Flesh on fevered flesh, I want closer To melt beneath your skin, to swim in your veins... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; Your body, Listens, caresses A gentle burning in my spine, Arching with the soft essence of night flowers; And gentle, the pulse of hand's clasp; My heart finding the rhythm of yours, A sigh between each beat, Whispering soft, "Never let me go."... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; Fire's flame dances, shadows writhe, Touch-feathering the silk of petals, rising to meet Each heartbeat Waiting, To feel your passion course through my blood, Feel desire as it consumes me, Suckle sweet, sutra your taste, Filling me.... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; I whimper, sighs, A blue voice, moaning through me Folding my breath inside your hands; Feeling the quivers you send racing through my thighs Purging velvet depths, Deeper Before a rise of hip curves to please eyes Lost inside the mirage of dreams, To feel your love and know its truth as if it were my own... Remember me, remember me............
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 2:31 PM UTC
Hush:
Forever is hushed amongst sweet sounding rain; Murmured heartbeats; Turn a soft pirouette in the recess of mind; Moon-burn, silvered, permeates the rake of glittered stars; Your kiss carved into this heart... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; Lilies, wild and dark, Cool the blush of my cheek, a soft essence Purl-binding, touching my soul; A summons of wrists gently turned To show veins that lie beneath, Bleeding hushed words, Flowing, where The lull of nightfall, lays my hair between your fingers... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; The breast of the ****** moon-spill, A simple thread of heartbeat, a touch-tender upon lips Parted; You brushed me beautiful, So beautiful; I glitter… silk upon crimson, shining; Slipping, burnished, to your tease, Flesh on fevered flesh, I want closer To melt beneath your skin, to swim in your veins... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; Your body, Listens, caresses A gentle burning in my spine, Arching with the soft essence of night flowers; And gentle, the pulse of hand's clasp; My heart finding the rhythm of yours, A sigh between each beat, Whispering soft, "Never let me go."... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; Fire's flame dances, shadows writhe, Touch-feathering the silk of petals, rising to meet Each heartbeat Waiting, To feel your passion course through my blood, Feel desire as it consumes me, Suckle sweet, sutra your taste, Filling me.... Remember me, remember me... And I can’t get close enough to him; I whimper, sighs, A blue voice, moaning through me Folding my breath inside your hands; Feeling the quivers you send racing through my thighs Purging velvet depths, Deeper Before a rise of hip curves to please eyes Lost inside the mirage of dreams, To feel your love and know its truth as if it were my own... Remember me, remember me............
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60
*enter slav digressing with the celt... yeah, saxony, once known as the northern arm's length of parody shaking oiled up speaking saracen sign language: arabica wavy wavy bye bye. you concrete those words in i roof it over, then we can both admire the rich russian vixens dry up their wealth with the saudis - we need television after all - and it’s in 3-d! and it’s 1-d head-banging closure! :)... ;( :x, :s, \: (mouth’s missing but i have a mammoth in malibu - and my love can’t aim to have the mortgage too - but hey, girl’s heading for the one coin-flip dolphin clap; and i was a teenager once too... but played grand theft auto 2d throughout asking for a bottle of whiskey and a panda’s / koala’s bothersome diet to hunt sleep); is there some sign language translation of emoji? i just don't have the talents to enter the emoji language and become a ********* or make democracy justly an exclusion of cowards and ****** i can’t do that, let’s utilise charles the third! ‘too busy, too fuzzy,’ well hear and karma sutra the talk of the man, after all the coinage and respecting the hedgehog on his head.* i cleaned it into a hotel like i would into a brothel, while the suffragettes looked like the elephant man in niqāb, and i was ready with the fist; although i shook less than i spoke to mouth it off into democracy continuing the power struggle vetoed with bodies extracted into the count warranting mourning. what success is it if a white boy in a western society can’t leave the nest and establish a taxable one to suit power? where’s the power then, in the stateless individual? where is your power to my ******* of being given wife and house not given? where?! if i can’t be the individuated pawn power broker you can’t be in power... idiots! you have to give me the ******* i “desire” to be in power, if you can’t, you’re not in power! ave augustus ave ego! try contort the square into a triangle by contorting **** into f*ck.... ah **** you already did... where’s the spanks’ worth of bullseye?! you germans have no decency in human affairs than you have to inspect **** movies varied by wildebeest stampedes from guernsey into gibraltar in gifs, do you? well i did **** off a palm tree and got a coconut for an oasis’ worth of thirst.
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
elephant man in democracy
*enter slav digressing with the celt... yeah, saxony, once known as the northern arm's length of parody shaking oiled up speaking saracen sign language: arabica wavy wavy bye bye. you concrete those words in i roof it over, then we can both admire the rich russian vixens dry up their wealth with the saudis - we need television after all - and it’s in 3-d! and it’s 1-d head-banging closure! :)... ;( :x, :s, \: (mouth’s missing but i have a mammoth in malibu - and my love can’t aim to have the mortgage too - but hey, girl’s heading for the one coin-flip dolphin clap; and i was a teenager once too... but played grand theft auto 2d throughout asking for a bottle of whiskey and a panda’s / koala’s bothersome diet to hunt sleep); is there some sign language translation of emoji? i just don't have the talents to enter the emoji language and become a ********* or make democracy justly an exclusion of cowards and ****** i can’t do that, let’s utilise charles the third! ‘too busy, too fuzzy,’ well hear and karma sutra the talk of the man, after all the coinage and respecting the hedgehog on his head.* i cleaned it into a hotel like i would into a brothel, while the suffragettes looked like the elephant man in niqāb, and i was ready with the fist; although i shook less than i spoke to mouth it off into democracy continuing the power struggle vetoed with bodies extracted into the count warranting mourning. what success is it if a white boy in a western society can’t leave the nest and establish a taxable one to suit power? where’s the power then, in the stateless individual? where is your power to my ******* of being given wife and house not given? where?! if i can’t be the individuated pawn power broker you can’t be in power... idiots! you have to give me the ******* i “desire” to be in power, if you can’t, you’re not in power! ave augustus ave ego! try contort the square into a triangle by contorting **** into f*ck.... ah **** you already did... where’s the spanks’ worth of bullseye?! you germans have no decency in human affairs than you have to inspect **** movies varied by wildebeest stampedes from guernsey into gibraltar in gifs, do you? well i did **** off a palm tree and got a coconut for an oasis’ worth of thirst.
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25
When Adam and Eve played love's old game We thought early romance a little too rough We wanted kinder and gentler rules We looked at it good and added our touch We turned it sideways and looked at some Masters Cleopatra and Marcus, Burton and Liz We looked through history and weighed each technique... Studying hers and studying his         We re-invented love         Applied TLC without the big rush          Someone had to do it; it was way overdue         And no one gets in it quite like me and you         Making it perfect, re-inventing love     We wanted to see the sexes more equal From Rome to Paris we studied their style We watched new positions in old Kuma Sutra In Mumbai and Murmansk to the banks of the Nile Now when they ***** a great Hall of Fame The applause will come down falling on us They'll put our names upon a big plaque Everyone marvelling and making a fuss         CHORUS Bridge:   Now the cave man technique is gone from romance                 Barbarians no longer can come to the dance         CHORUS
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Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 7:30 PM UTC
We Re-invented Love Copyright Louis Brown
Je t' aime kamma   I long for thine sutra, throbbing Hilton põg. King of Prussia PA. O the first time thine many face moon playing hide and seek showered us with moonlight just to hear us sigh and sigh till song and dance lended our feet shoeless Pon our crib of fragrant blooms tracing on each others back mo grá Angel I'm yours, be mine. aingeal Is mise mise Te amo. Thermo King Westing house Je t'aime, Je t'aime mera bano main tumhaara hoon. ~ By: Karijinbba 74-95 -6-21
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Jul 19, 2021
Jul 19, 2021 at 4:46 PM UTC
Thermo King
Life has beauty in her nooks In woods that trill of feathered songs Where fireflies dance at dusk And starlight blankets night till dawn In the rhythm of falling rain And drops of dew that shine on leaves On mountain tops that reach the sky The mystic shades of coral reefs And if you feel spirits sag Heavy eyes with burdens stressed Rest your eyes on hyacinths And on the moon cradling a crest Catch the starlight streaming down See angels in clouds that pass Lay your head on a flower bed Run bare feet on the grass Life has beauty in her arms In kindness and the touch of love In promises of hope and strength Like the warm sun from above In bouquets of wishes of care Hands that tuck a flower in Near and dear those precious ones That soothe and balm a broken skin And if you feel spirits sag Heavy eyes with burdens stressed Rest your head on a shoulder kind And His eyes that forever bless Your own shoulder, a solace be Hands clasp another tight For other spirits sag too Then- Into the beauty of the night.
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Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 9:34 AM UTC
Life's Sutra