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"unconventional" poems
You're the Wacky Wolf-man, Tearing through our pages with a single huff. Breathing life into us little piggies, Blasting your way through the daily fluff. You're the Word Wizard. Leaving us in awe and in dribbles. Waving your wand, Conjuring magical and spellbinding scribbles. You're the Living Legend, Almost like a deity of some sort. Garnering shiploads of admiration, Through words of encouragement, banter and retort. You're the Bad Boy Bard... Never mincing your words. Unconventional, you howl amidst the flocks... You never did chirp like the birds... You're the Minstrel Mobster, Shooting your Tommy, never missing. Flicking forward your fedora, Strung lute ever smoking. You're one Cool Cat. Fending off haters with a bat. Everyone just wants to be that. Like a superhero whose symbol is a bat... You're a Gem Generator. Cogs and gears churning the jewels laid Machine malfunction! My system's jammed! Well I guess that's just it... Enough said!
0
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 3:18 PM UTC
Marvel Man
Split Personality You wanna know what goes on in my head, if you only knew, you would drop dead. Anger, depression and suicidal thoughts, maybe its all those little brain clots. Conceited, vain and very egotistical, confused, shocking and very mystical. I'm eccentric, bizarre, and always unconventional, my vision is always three dimensional. I take the path that's less traveled, things I do leave people baffled. Even I don't know what I'm doing, but trust me, I always got something brewing. I practice in the art of deception, I'm admired by my depth of perception. I don't know wrong from right, I see everything in black and white. I'm a man you don't wanna meet, I lie, steal and always cheat. I'm flirty, ***** and very perverted, if we're alone, I will leave you deserted. I'm **** hot and always aroused, every girl I have slowly browsed. I love assault, ****** and **** but I only write it for an escape. Inside my head is torture and pain, I'm certified and clinically insane. Sometimes I take my medication, when I don't, I'm on a permanent vacation. I'd do anything to become famous, even **** Donald Trump in his **** I've crossed over to the dark side, to hell, I've already applied. There is no help for me now, before I go please give me a bow. I'll accept a standing ovation, sick and tired of all the aggravation. I used to be so nice and kind, into heaven, I got denied. Don't pay attention to the things you read, I entertain you til my fingers bleed. Ask anybody, I really a great guy, just like REO Speedwagon, its time for me to fly.
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Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
Split Personality
Split Personality You wanna know what goes on in my head, if you only knew, you would drop dead. Anger, depression and suicidal thoughts, maybe its all those little brain clots. Conceited, vain and very egotistical, confused, shocking and very mystical. I'm eccentric, bizarre, and always unconventional, my vision is always three dimensional. I take the path that's less traveled, things I do leave people baffled. Even I don't know what I'm doing, but trust me, I always got something brewing. I practice in the art of deception, I'm admired by my depth of perception. I don't know wrong from right, I see everything in black and white. I'm a man you don't wanna meet, I lie, steal and always cheat. I'm flirty, ***** and very perverted, if we're alone, I will leave you deserted. I'm **** hot and always aroused, every girl I have slowly browsed. I love assault, ****** and **** but I only write it for an escape. Inside my head is torture and pain, I'm certified and clinically insane. Sometimes I take my medication, when I don't, I'm on a permanent vacation. I'd do anything to become famous, even **** Donald Trump in his **** I've crossed over to the dark side, to hell, I've already applied. There is no help for me now, before I go please give me a bow. I'll accept a standing ovation, sick and tired of all the aggravation. I used to be so nice and kind, into heaven, I got denied. Don't pay attention to the things you read, I entertain you til my fingers bleed. Ask anybody, I really a great guy, just like REO Speedwagon, its time for me to fly.
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43
The body was given to us as impression of the gift of love. We were conceived in love and born in order to love. The Creator has given us through the body to the world. We are therefore divine spark. Let us look at other man as at indescribable gift. Adam and Eve in paradise followed in the wake of ****** without shame. Through the body we can touch the soul. This ****** was acceptance of a man with his limitations, tangible form of love, devotion to each other without mystery, boundless openness, freedom from lust of flesh. Bashfulness has its roots in this original innocence. Discretion to the body is inscribed in man. Let us follow with pure look at man. Purity is trying to get access through the body to soul and inside. The physicality brings us childish joy, communion of souls, inner enrichment, sharing a beautiful relationship, exploration of mystery of love. Pure look at man is unconventional symphony of his gift of life. Such scrutinizing is necessary for genuine love. Beloved should first play simultaneously the same notes of feelings before the symphony will flow with sexuality. This presage will give your body speech. Sexuality should not drown out the relationship with beloved, it should build skyscrapers. Sexuality is a gift, such as body and life. Sexuality discovers endless wealth of lover. ****** expression of love is a confession of God's presence. After all, God is love. Only the perception of sexuality as gift saves from vulgarity.
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
Sexuality as gift
In a time, when men were the superheroes, born in an unconventional location, a young girl, unknown to the future she was destined to, was born with a uniqueness unfound in all people, a superpower of empathy and as she grew, the world knew she was imbued as a living embodiment of legends: Athena's wisdom, beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite, conversational skills that made Hermes envious, and strength that Hercules could never attain. As she approached an age, when her parents would trust her to be guardian, her powers manifested. This incredible child was now a woman. With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge poison that had afflicted a person, even their hearts, a God-given gift for those most sacred; her correspondences exponentially developed, able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature, this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity. Now, fully grown, this super-no- This Wonder Woman had retired her duties to save the world, not forsake it, but, to train Wonder Girl, her daughter, to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her. She still looks up at the Higher Power and realizes her duty to provide the world justice is not over but only beginning. Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged and was gifted a bulletproof bracelet, forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction of all that is wise and healing. Given to her to wear so that nothing could halt her as she continues her fate to provide the world a humanity that could only come from an intrinsically true dear heart.
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May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
Ode to Mama
In a time, when men were the superheroes, born in an unconventional location, a young girl, unknown to the future she was destined to, was born with a uniqueness unfound in all people, a superpower of empathy and as she grew, the world knew she was imbued as a living embodiment of legends: Athena's wisdom, beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite, conversational skills that made Hermes envious, and strength that Hercules could never attain. As she approached an age, when her parents would trust her to be guardian, her powers manifested. This incredible child was now a woman. With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge poison that had afflicted a person, even their hearts, a God-given gift for those most sacred; her correspondences exponentially developed, able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature, this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity. Now, fully grown, this super-no- This Wonder Woman had retired her duties to save the world, not forsake it, but, to train Wonder Girl, her daughter, to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her. She still looks up at the Higher Power and realizes her duty to provide the world justice is not over but only beginning. Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged and was gifted a bulletproof bracelet, forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction of all that is wise and healing. Given to her to wear so that nothing could halt her as she continues her fate to provide the world a humanity that could only come from an intrinsically true dear heart.
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49
Sensation, intuition, feeling, and thinking, Is wrapped inside a ball, A small pink ball inside our head, That won't stop till we're dead, Analytical bedrock inside oozing theories, Elemental atoms sizzling logic, The imaginative stranger, One abstracted and eccentric, Walking with shadows, Talking and mocking, Through these theories inside us, Tilting our caps ‘til we’re shaking our heads, Pensive love in storming analysis, Sapiosexually excited, piqued interest, Unemotional and thoughtfully attuned, Absently minded, always condoned, Unconventional and impartially stringed, Weirdly wired in auxiliary functions, Misconstrued and misunderstood, An ****** intelligence bleeding paranoia, Knocking unto me, Into you, inside us all, It’s something we all yearn to be, And when you fail and prevail we laugh, Crickling crickets thinking nothing, Washing down the storm drain, With no thoughts fluidly sliding down my throat, Pop goes no questions into absolute concise words like freshly broken glass, Again shadows await, but different shadows, Blinking at me staring at you, Wondering what’s what, inside this dementia made sense of a lovely afternoon, Inside your sane, autocorrected, predetermined, twitching, little…mind. Inspired by Myers Briggs Personality Test Tyler is INTP... Logician  (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Perception) The drifter, dreamer the absent minded professor! SassyJ is INTJ... Architect  (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Judging) The starry-eyed idealist manoeuvring life as if a giant chess board! What Myer Briggs personality type are you?... See link below It would be great to know.Please comment!! http://www.16personalities.com/intp-personality
0
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
No.1 Sapiosexual Slapping Inquisition- Collaboration with Tyler James Birabent (#one-a-week-series)
Sensation, intuition, feeling, and thinking, Is wrapped inside a ball, A small pink ball inside our head, That won't stop till we're dead, Analytical bedrock inside oozing theories, Elemental atoms sizzling logic, The imaginative stranger, One abstracted and eccentric, Walking with shadows, Talking and mocking, Through these theories inside us, Tilting our caps ‘til we’re shaking our heads, Pensive love in storming analysis, Sapiosexually excited, piqued interest, Unemotional and thoughtfully attuned, Absently minded, always condoned, Unconventional and impartially stringed, Weirdly wired in auxiliary functions, Misconstrued and misunderstood, An ****** intelligence bleeding paranoia, Knocking unto me, Into you, inside us all, It’s something we all yearn to be, And when you fail and prevail we laugh, Crickling crickets thinking nothing, Washing down the storm drain, With no thoughts fluidly sliding down my throat, Pop goes no questions into absolute concise words like freshly broken glass, Again shadows await, but different shadows, Blinking at me staring at you, Wondering what’s what, inside this dementia made sense of a lovely afternoon, Inside your sane, autocorrected, predetermined, twitching, little…mind. Inspired by Myers Briggs Personality Test Tyler is INTP... Logician  (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Perception) The drifter, dreamer the absent minded professor! SassyJ is INTJ... Architect  (Introverted INtuitive Thinking Judging) The starry-eyed idealist manoeuvring life as if a giant chess board! What Myer Briggs personality type are you?... See link below It would be great to know.Please comment!! http://www.16personalities.com/intp-personality
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40
You should have been the soul that Edgar Allen Poe loved, So that he wouldn't have died miserable and alone, You are the Morticia to my Gomez; deadly in love, We would make a quirky Addams family, bar none, I love the nerds in us and the banter of annoyance, I love the moments of radiant love and our nature of being different, 'Cause we did meet exceptionally over persistence, And we accept each other regardless of difference, I wish that our love will remain eternal, Narrated by Obi-Wan, With a theme song by John Williams, Directed by Lucas, nah, we don't need direction, I do know, we need a Queen, and that's you my puddin'! Leia to my Solo, A Queen-B-lovin'-Quinn to my Joker, A die-hard Drake lover with a heart for the Dark Side, This Vader loves his Amidala, xoxoxo, We would revel on any side but the holy! May this love never fade, and be full of surprises, But not the kind where there is nasi lemak with no ikan bilis! But you make the best **** nasi lemak, sigh, I'm forever grateful for my Babloo I'm forever grateful that you're by my side, My Annabel Lee, I'm grateful Poe never met you, 'Cause you're all mine!
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Feb 13, 2017
Feb 13, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
Unconventional Love
Awkward tastes like that glass of red wine you offered, My name falling out of your mouth like a word you'd forgotten; Awkward feels like your arms around me and me trying to remember if you used to rub my back in a hug; Awkward looks like not making any eye contact but instead taking turns watching eachother; The room was full of your family and latina music, I hadn't been that happy since September And all the while I could feel my heart choking On the silence between you and I And that big lump of "What now?" That currently defines us.
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Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
Unconventional
How can one express their heart when words are not enough, how can I even dream to start when my tongue finds it so tough. Let me try... You are the graffitti tagging me as yours you are the scent of stale beer in late night smokey bars you are the pain of paper cut where lemon juice seeped in and the bitter taste of sugar replaced by sacherin you are the days felt wasted and night times thrown away and the silence found in laughter just to keep the tears at bay you are my anger my sorrow and my pain and given my time over we would do it all again. These are not insults these are the depths of my heart.
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Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 8:39 AM UTC
Unconventional Love Poem
The Bird is never still Flying from one topic to the other Her chatter loud and uncensored Her friends twittering at her to be quieter The Bird has many friends But Birds always sleep alone And cold With their hollow bones The Fox is the Bird's friend The Fox is tricky Weaving in and out of conversations Gorgeous And sleek The Fox makes rabbits fall in love with her so she'll have plenty to eat The Bird and the Fox are unconventional friends Friends no one would think would click But the Bird will chatter and chatter and the Fox will quietly sit Listening to everything Retaining information The Chameleon is the Fox's and the Bird's mutual friend When with the Fox they match their red When with the Bird they match their blue And so on So no one really knows the Chameleon's true colors Whoever you are They'll match you Blending in A social camaflouge That they think keeps them safe And when together they are quite A sight Wandering loudly Through the night They are a strange group And when together they're tight Exchanging advice Or judging each other But never outright You'll never catch the bird But be careful if you do If not gentle with your touch Her bones will crack right in front of you The Fox puts on a face Bearing teeth and changing mates But under all that glossy fur She's scared that you won't want her If you catch the Chameleon off guard You might be surprised What you see is never what you get But if you look real hard The chameleon will freeze and fall down to their knees please, please, just like me ......
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Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
The Bird, the Fox, and the Chameleon
The Bird is never still Flying from one topic to the other Her chatter loud and uncensored Her friends twittering at her to be quieter The Bird has many friends But Birds always sleep alone And cold With their hollow bones The Fox is the Bird's friend The Fox is tricky Weaving in and out of conversations Gorgeous And sleek The Fox makes rabbits fall in love with her so she'll have plenty to eat The Bird and the Fox are unconventional friends Friends no one would think would click But the Bird will chatter and chatter and the Fox will quietly sit Listening to everything Retaining information The Chameleon is the Fox's and the Bird's mutual friend When with the Fox they match their red When with the Bird they match their blue And so on So no one really knows the Chameleon's true colors Whoever you are They'll match you Blending in A social camaflouge That they think keeps them safe And when together they are quite A sight Wandering loudly Through the night They are a strange group And when together they're tight Exchanging advice Or judging each other But never outright You'll never catch the bird But be careful if you do If not gentle with your touch Her bones will crack right in front of you The Fox puts on a face Bearing teeth and changing mates But under all that glossy fur She's scared that you won't want her If you catch the Chameleon off guard You might be surprised What you see is never what you get But if you look real hard The chameleon will freeze and fall down to their knees please, please, just like me ......
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53
So I'm a little down. So I'm not like everyone else. So I'm battling something people don't know much about. So I'm different. So I'm "dysfunctional". So I'm not from a traditional background. So what? Does that mean, I shouldn't be allowed to attend my college? The one thing keeping me going? That I should be locked up in the loony bin? All because my brain has become numb to some pain? I've found function in my alleged dysfunction, some traditions occasionally get broken. Exceptions to the rules are made. The world is full of suffering, but it is also full of overcoming it. So where do you get off, telling me how to deal with something you've only read about in your guidance text books? Where five minutes into meeting me, that you feel the ability to dictate how I should go about my life? I've lived 20 years on this Earth without your input, sure, it hasn't been perfect, but I've made the unconventional work. I mean, ask anybody that actually knows me, if they would ever consider me "conventional". So don't sit there, and hide behind words like "I just want what's best for you", "I care about you", "I'm concerned", "Its your choice to go, but if you don't: the police will forcibly escort you, or you'll not be allowed to be in our college community." Scoffing at the word community, because whenever someone tries to use that word, usually it is about discluding people, rather than including them. "So, either be discluded now, by your 'choice', or by us making you. All the while, literally 12 hours previous, we had zero idea what was going on, or even who you were. " Seems like you really do have "my best interests at heart", huh?
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Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
5 Minute Rant
So I'm a little down. So I'm not like everyone else. So I'm battling something people don't know much about. So I'm different. So I'm "dysfunctional". So I'm not from a traditional background. So what? Does that mean, I shouldn't be allowed to attend my college? The one thing keeping me going? That I should be locked up in the loony bin? All because my brain has become numb to some pain? I've found function in my alleged dysfunction, some traditions occasionally get broken. Exceptions to the rules are made. The world is full of suffering, but it is also full of overcoming it. So where do you get off, telling me how to deal with something you've only read about in your guidance text books? Where five minutes into meeting me, that you feel the ability to dictate how I should go about my life? I've lived 20 years on this Earth without your input, sure, it hasn't been perfect, but I've made the unconventional work. I mean, ask anybody that actually knows me, if they would ever consider me "conventional". So don't sit there, and hide behind words like "I just want what's best for you", "I care about you", "I'm concerned", "Its your choice to go, but if you don't: the police will forcibly escort you, or you'll not be allowed to be in our college community." Scoffing at the word community, because whenever someone tries to use that word, usually it is about discluding people, rather than including them. "So, either be discluded now, by your 'choice', or by us making you. All the while, literally 12 hours previous, we had zero idea what was going on, or even who you were. " Seems like you really do have "my best interests at heart", huh?
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43
a lover by day and an artist by night the epitome of perfection let me paint you like you are the heavenly piece of art you are let the world see you through my eyes the likes of an angel of love sculpted by michelangelo blessed by venus herself brushstrokes simply cannot do you justice 50mm lens still cannot show the world the truth cold clay cannot compare to eucalyptus eyes forget these superficial takes let's make art, my love let's make love
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Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 7:55 AM UTC
unconventional art
My heart aches. When I think about leaving you, When I think about how in a year, I won’t see you everyday. Instead I’ll be thousands of miles away. Missing you with every breath. With every thought. I don’t know why. It seems silly. Doesn’t it? Truthfully, and not just for comedic purposes. I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you. And I’m going to miss you so much more than words can describe. And I’m sorry. I know it’s unconventional, rude even. To say I have to go. I know I’d promised I’d be there forever. **** why did I have to fall so deeply? Thinking about your eyes will no longer meet mine. With time, you’ll forget. And so will I. That connection we once shared will disappear. Our feelings will fall away. Life will continue.
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Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
To my love (an apology).
Yes, you are indeed right. I’m weird and a bit strange unconventional, odd, different. But no, I do not want to cut myself into pieces to suit to your approval of what’s normal and what’s needed. I do not need to edit myself to fit in. I do not need to apologize for what and who I am. I am strong enough to live my life in my own terms. I dance to the beat of my own music. It doesn’t matter if nobody understands me. I am just being me. I am real. I am beautiful. I am unique. I am a proud misfit.
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Jul 26, 2019
Jul 26, 2019 at 9:54 PM UTC
A Proud Misfit
Two sparkle at xciting find. Joy, relief, wishes flood our mind. Reality numbed by ecstasy of find Hardship, struggle, desires for now behind Rightfulness of find, reality’s duality Realization of self, fighting morality The opportunity loss creates uncertainty. The opportunity gain, creates possibility How to capitalize on this potential Designed improvements appear preferential Decided, we proceed unconventional We proceed like natural Blades of diamonds remove the rough Painstakingly disregarding, unwanted stuff Transformation, tough Mindful, not to lose a bough Rough turn sparkle, every time Faceted gem’s birth, sublime Artistry creates, perfect rhyme This treasure set in time Most beautiful combination This magnificent creation Testament of devotion Evokes amazing emotion Bestowed, this incredible treasure Brings about untold pleasure Value, without measure Diamond forever, ours to treasure
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Feb 29, 2012
Feb 29, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
Diamond in the rough
Do not fall in love with an artist; Her mind is both a framework And a disarray Of jumbled sentiments. And once you embed yourself Within her horizons, She’ll fathom you into a masterpiece. She’ll draw the way your lips form words With mesmerizing hues And bind your love Into a collection of poetic utterances And she’ll make an inconsequential language Into an unconventional expression. She’ll pluck strings To embody the way your chest Rises against her ear with each breath; She’ll make you fall in love with creativity. And one wrong move, And you’ll become a masterwork in her array.
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Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 3:51 AM UTC
Why Not to Fall in Love with an Artist
I've never experienced reality like I have at a music festival. It's like a circus, a wonderland, a place for unconventional souls. It's a world inside a world, a community of love mixed with hippies and drugs. It's not a perfect place, but it comes pretty close when you are rolling, or tripping face.
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May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 7:53 PM UTC
Music Festivals
Wearing a blindfold Inspiring fascination and lust A thrilling sensation of fear The fantasy providing an escape Daring and unconventional ****** taste that's intriguing and ***** The pursuit of ones own pleasure Given into the desires of the lover
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Love Wears a Blindfold
Insomnia, Insomnia, I wish that you would die. Why is it that you ****** me? You laugh as you make me cry. Feelings that help conspire, My heart to skip a beat. The pressure of my blood rises higher, To cure my sadness I continue to eat. A monster grows inside of me, His name I do not know. All of this peculiar controversy, Conspiracies begin to grow. Not knowing who or what I am, I start to lose my head. While my head forms it's acidic jam, It soaks up into my bed. Deadly forces fight inside, My brain stops it's function. Unconventional disfunctions collide, Like a sentence without conjunction. Distancing myself from society, I'll sleep forever lonely. Friends are like your enemies, So late to realize they're phony. Love has been lost, Some time ago. I wish I had a companion. Misery, Inside of me. A woman's touch will make, This loneliness inside of me go. Questioning the nature of humanity, I feel I'm betraying the lord. Constant coexisting insanity, Starts when one becomes bored. Boarding up these windows, The storm rolls in above. As peers become your hated foes, Hate transformed from love. Waking up this very day, I notice a familiar sensation, Every dawn is like today, With no spontaneous creation. Night comes about, I fail to sleep, Instead I start to shout. Counting sheep, Is useless, As my heart fails to grout. Insomnia, Insomnia, Why won't you let me be? Too many things exhaust my mind. I'd like to go to sleep.
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Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 3:06 PM UTC
Insomnia
Once I met a platypus; I took her to my heart. We held hands by the lake at night, And flew kites in the park. We drank red wine by moonlight, And closer, by degrees, Expressed our deepest feelings; Explored our fantasies. And then, as these things happen, There came a happy day: We took an ad out in The Times Announcing progeny. But outrage at the outcome - Our beloved platy-pups - Was front page in the tabloids! What was the platy-fuss? We gave the papers interviews, We gave our truth and trust - But still my Love was slandered Just for being oviparous! We formed an equal rights group. We founded charities. To educate, to celebrate Our ovi-parity! We swore a solemn, binding oath, Between the two of us The Wedding feast and party was Quite monatrematous! Uncle Mallangong was tearful; Aunt Echidna was abeam: The Boondaburra “Moonwalking” Was something to be seen! There were Joeys sloshed on cider, Wombats smoking **** Emus snogging at the bar - Koalas wild on speed! For sickness, health; for poorer, Or for great prosperity; I will love and hold and cherish, Through all adversity, My nondarwinian lover; My mutant, duck-billed Queen! My unconventional ****** My monotreme – my dream!
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Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Once Upon A Platypus
Cannibalistic killers Can at least claim They were simply trying to sustain Themselves On unconventional prey It's no different than the bush meat trade What makes you better than a Gorilla? To me or a cannibalistic killer, You look pretty tasty... I'd eat you in a heartbeat.
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Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 2:36 PM UTC
Bush Meat
What is a rhyme scheme? What is a sentence? capitalization? Punctuation What is a story? What is a poem? None of these things define writing. You define it when you write.
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Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 6:06 PM UTC
Unconventional
I believe we met in heaven or was it hell? I was too drunk. You, soft spoken and understanding, didn't know me at all. Yet helped me to my feet and asked what I was doing in the park this late on a Tuesday. I told you that I was bad at lying, then proceeded to ***** on your shoes. I didn't know then that I'd marry you someday.
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Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 4:15 PM UTC
Unconventional Love Poem I
--And do not be indiscreet or unconventional. Play it safe.-- Listen here. I've never played it safe in spite of what the critics say. Ask my imaginary brother, that waif, that childhood best friend who comes to play dress-up and stick-up and jacks and Pick-Up-Sticks, bike downtown, stick out tongues at the Catholics. Or form a **** Club where we all go in the bushes and peek at each other's *** Pop-gunning the street lights like crows. Not knowing what to do with funny Kotex so wearing it in our school shoes. Friend, friend, spooking my lonely hours you were there, but pretend.
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2.7k
August 8th
She came to him like a special angel from heaven He had lost all faith, he was on his life number 7 She found a crack in his hardened armor He was in disbelief, it was to his honor They found themselves to be compatible But his social graces where unconventional Her beauty and wisdom sailed the seven seas He never went beyond the forest and the trees This Special lady tugged and pulled at his heart string Witch made the melody of his soul dance and sing She even stirred his passion with a big tight huggy A thousand stinging bees filling his heart with honey Her deep soulful eyes put a spell and made him pray He just couldn’t stop thinking of her night and day Putting him in a trance, not knowing what to say This fine lady was in a class that has all that This poor lad could only offer poems and a chat The princess in this story was moving fearless and fast He feared with his lack of nobility, the dream would not last She drives, flies, floats, plays and stays first class He always seems to be in a long line, to be the last The feeling she gave him will forever in his heart last He feels sad the best he has to offer, is all lost in the past Dark mystery still surrounds this girl that likes white and black He’ll try and sweep her off her feet with gifts of vanilla and lilac Her biggest dream has to do with innocent smell, theses are facts He hopes she’ll forgive him for all the thing that he poorly lacks.....
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Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
Princess and the Pauper
This is an ode to my own self love Because tonight I forgot who I ******* was I was looking at a profile with the guy i was on a date with and he said that the girl in the picture was pretty and I asked what about her is pretty and as we scrolled through the pictures he said *I like the ones where she looks normal* And when this ************ meant normal I knew he meant white He mean blonde haired, blue eyed, perfect skin and white teeth And I looked at myself I knew I was none of these things My skin is not white, neither are my teeth, and they are crooked Like my skin, which is not flawless, no Beyoncé, I did not wake up flawless My hair is dark brown, almost black, but that's my natural color I've been bleaching it blonde since I was twelve What the **** does that tell you I got my first two tattoos when I was eighteen And I saw how the girls face had no piercings And I looked at my 00 gauges and my septum, cartilage, tragus, and second hole piercings And I wanted to rip them all off I wanted to scratch my tattoos off I wanted to take my hair off I wanted to rip my skin off I felt inadequate I felt like I could never be enough Well I'm tan and unconventional So that means I can never be ******* loved So this is an ode to myself: Dear Ella, Look at me, Thick body, with curves that slay like Beyoncé's Glasses thick so you can see your own beauty Lipstick dark like the shade of a ruby And you don't care You don't care what anyone thinks because you know you rock it Your blonde and brown hair is unique, no one else can rock it Your piercings are a part of you, that's why you ******* chose them The same thing with the tattoos, girl, that's why you own them They have meaning to you, they're beautiful to you So what the **** does what this guy thinks phase you The way you do your makeup is beautiful, Your style is beautiful And every scar on your arm is important to you So don't pretend that what he thinks is more important than what you do Love yourself, girl, because without you there would be no you -E (c) 2017
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Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 3:45 AM UTC
And Ode to Self Love
This is an ode to my own self love Because tonight I forgot who I ******* was I was looking at a profile with the guy i was on a date with and he said that the girl in the picture was pretty and I asked what about her is pretty and as we scrolled through the pictures he said *I like the ones where she looks normal* And when this ************ meant normal I knew he meant white He mean blonde haired, blue eyed, perfect skin and white teeth And I looked at myself I knew I was none of these things My skin is not white, neither are my teeth, and they are crooked Like my skin, which is not flawless, no Beyoncé, I did not wake up flawless My hair is dark brown, almost black, but that's my natural color I've been bleaching it blonde since I was twelve What the **** does that tell you I got my first two tattoos when I was eighteen And I saw how the girls face had no piercings And I looked at my 00 gauges and my septum, cartilage, tragus, and second hole piercings And I wanted to rip them all off I wanted to scratch my tattoos off I wanted to take my hair off I wanted to rip my skin off I felt inadequate I felt like I could never be enough Well I'm tan and unconventional So that means I can never be ******* loved So this is an ode to myself: Dear Ella, Look at me, Thick body, with curves that slay like Beyoncé's Glasses thick so you can see your own beauty Lipstick dark like the shade of a ruby And you don't care You don't care what anyone thinks because you know you rock it Your blonde and brown hair is unique, no one else can rock it Your piercings are a part of you, that's why you ******* chose them The same thing with the tattoos, girl, that's why you own them They have meaning to you, they're beautiful to you So what the **** does what this guy thinks phase you The way you do your makeup is beautiful, Your style is beautiful And every scar on your arm is important to you So don't pretend that what he thinks is more important than what you do Love yourself, girl, because without you there would be no you -E (c) 2017
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