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TR3F1LD Oct 2019
****, bruh! call a bomb squad (bo[ɑ]mb squa[ɑ]d)
for there's a bomb—
—shell here, whose rear evokes a somewha[ʌ]t
unholy, wrong thought (wro[ɑ]ng thou[ɑ]ght)
reminds him of a jihadi-done job (jihadi-done jo[ɑ]b)
'cause this ***'s (boom) banging; this honey's dancing
boldly & lewdly, got his jaw dropped (ja[ɑ]w dro[ɑ]pped)
his sight's fixed on her hips, she's beyond hot (bey[ɑ]ond **[ɑ]t)
this gal's freaking blazing
his hand's in offensive motion for her hind part
a haptic invasion
she moves on from wining to fondling, she's eager
such a luscious body, killer figure (body)
disguised with a tank
top with a low neckline & tight-fit cropped pants
she's like: "make me high like a rooftO̲p nearly reaching
the sky; give me a tI̲me so exquisite
that I̲'ll be left speechless
when this ro[ɑ]mp's over"
she's none short o'... a mind-blower, like a gun-toter
blowing a brain of a **** hound wrongdoing
('bout time to strike a hunting seas-on up on these ****)
she digs vicious, dark-sounding music
but also doesn't mind to bounce her tushie
to 90-100 bpm party-sound tunes
I'm a bit ashamed of my imagination, but I couldn't help it.
[Please scroll down for an English translation.]

Keine Hoffnung toter Träume:
Ich dreh mich nicht mehr um mich selbst.
Ich lebe zwischen Streichhölzern
Und glaubte, mir gehört die Welt

Warum soll ich die Wunden lecken,
Die Zeichen meines Lebens sind?
Ich denke oft an stille Post –
Vielleicht hörst Du mir doch mal zu.

Und abends geht die Sonne auf,
Weil ich es will in meinem Traum.
Antworten sind Gift für Seelen,
Weil die Fragen sie erdrücken.

Denkst Du oft an mich beim Schlafen?
Ich weiß nicht, ob das wichtig ist.
Ich bereue nur, Dich nie gefragt zu haben:
Vermißt Du eigentlich Spanien?
___________
ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

No hope of dead dreams:
I do not revolve about myself any longer.
I live among matches
And presumed the world belonged to me.

Why should I lick the wounds
That are marks of my life?
I often think of Chinese whispers –
Perhaps you will listen to me once.

And in the evening, the sun rises
Because I want it so in my dream.
Answers are venomous to souls,
Since questions stifle them.

Do you think of me often in your sleep?
I do not know whether it matters.
I only regret never to have asked you:
Do you ever miss Spain?
TR3F1LD Sep 24
****, bruh! call a bo[ɑ]mb squa[ɑ]d
'cause she's a bomb—
—shell, whose rear evokes a somewha[ʌ]t
unholy, wro[ɑ]ng thou[ɑ]ght
reminds him of a jihadi-done job
'cause this ***'s (boom) banging; this honey's dancing
boldly & lewdly, got his ja[ɑ]w dro[ɑ]pped
she's beyo[ɑ]nd "**[ɑ]t"
this gA̲l's freaking blazing
his hand's in offensive motion for her hind part
a haptic invasion
she moves on from wining to fondling, she's eager
like someone punished by dI̲nt of
a guillotine, his head's lost as she seductively strI̲ps her—
—self naked; she says: "make me
high as a rooftO̲[ɑ]p nearly reaching
the sky; give me a tI̲me so exquisite
that I̲'ll be left speechless
when this ro[ɑ]mp's over"
she's none short o'... a mind-blower, like a gun-toter
blowing a brain of a nazissistic hound wrongdoing
————————————————————————————————
she goes O̲U̲t like jU̲I̲ce in
["juice" in the sense of "electricity"; the "out like a light [electricity]" expression]
the wake of their energetic bout of nookie
as against l'heroi d'aquesta nI̲t that ca[ɛ]n't catch
["l'heroi d'aquesta nit" (Catalan) - "the hero of tonight"]
sleep, like a ham-****** skate cast
a pillowcase at; he's still awake af—
["catch slip"]
—ter more than ane half
of a twenty-fourth of day passed
his mind's got diverse thou[ɑ]ghts
going one after another, like a race track
occupied by sport cars
he's a nobo[ɑ]dy who's ended
up having a great tI̲me with a splendid
woman, which he's now lying in bed with
with his existence being nO̲ne but pathetic
he's been, like a person with whom O̲ne isn't ca[ɛ]ndid
in the dark &, processing the world as highly offensive
from a sociopolitical point, wa[ɑ]nting a vengeance
just li̲ke vigila[ɛ]ntes
he's up in arms, due to pieces of vI̲ce-ridden dreck with
their eyes blinded with pelf &
power; a hE̲A̲rt-damaged a[ɛ]nti—
—hero with little avE̲nues to spout the
anger, who seems to have found a
source of light he doesn't wish to be outta
he hopes she won't slyly desert him
the subsequent morning
if she arises before him
"a night out rhyme tale, part II" by TR3F1LD (TRFLD) is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (to view a copy of this license, visit creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0)

"a night out rhyme tale, part I":
hellopoetry.com/poem/4708772

"a night out rhyme tale, part III":
hellopoetry.com/poem/4883684

— The End —