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"whap" poems
When oh when will I meet my mistress? I hope she has a lovely apartment or small home She will wear her lovely black boots and designer jeans And perhaps a **** blouse too In the winter evening We will have a nice fire I will lie across her lap in only my ******* It will be so comforting to receive a firm spanking from her It will be a loving spanking Just firm enough to show she is in charge But not too firm to make me cry She pulls down my pink satin ******* Whap! Whap! First 10 spanks with her hand And then the next 10 with her wooden hairbrush She used the hairbrush because She thought I could have done a better job Cleaning our kitchen floor I have never been so happy to serve my mistress I have prepared a lovely dinner prepared for her After we eat I will give her oral pleasure for as long as she desires What a beautiful evening indeed
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
I Hope To Meet My Mistress
Our thoughts of time travel burnt-up when Junior sang The Blues. Foreign creature. ***** voodoo muppet. His spaniel’s moan, a call to mud, digging deep like “woo-woo-woo” Smacking the past in the chin, he dipped a laden lead melon in a barrel of black molasses. A slow lowering, tender sinew slackened. Unclawed- the orb traversed his finger tips nicking his nails on the way earthward. The black drink parts then floods back where it once was, coating the cold round load as it sank down below the Mason-Dixon line. Junior gurgled in slow-mo dipped his Gibson and stirred the stew, made the black brew dribble over the barrel’s shoulders and puddle in the thick sticky corners and cracks of the Juke’s oak planks. He fished it out then -bladaplowplow- -WHAP!!- split that melon in half, no knife, they used the trap, then Junior took his break to take a nap in Baton Rouge.
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Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 4:53 PM UTC
Junior Kimbrough in Baton Rouge
The day is so rainy and gray My homework has to be delayed Sleepiness taking over Eyes getting droopy it is pasting over me “I feel like I and am in the doldrums” I say “Sleep sleep sit down and lay” What is this this bad thing so bad Instead of making me really sleepy it is making me mad Oh what do you want with me trying to make me sleepy “Sleep sleep you don’t have anything to do Lay down come on your sleepy I see you” I slap it I whap it I put it away I am not sleepy now go away!!!
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Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 4:53 PM UTC
You're sleepy
I woke up this morning Arose from my bed My head was in pain And there was hurt in my leg Washed up and ate and packed my brief The works overload caused little of sleep Thought of times used on the early ride-in Fear subsides to agony Then, stress subdues to sin The mind does not drift During works busy trends And when the day's over My mind, it just bends So I go to the market To pick up a something Who's that? Whap! Bam! Boom! What's wrong? Absolutely nothing!
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 6:56 PM UTC
Absolutely Nothing
When I was six my mama said She’d pay me for each ten Flies I got alive or dead A penny. So I wandered room to room Swatter cocked to **** Listening for the tell-tale buzz Of a fly on a windowsill. Whap! Would go the swatter. Splat! Another fly. Whappity-wahappity, WHAP! SPLAT! WHAP! Die. Die. Die. Soon the hunt was over. Not a fly remained. The windowsills were dotted black; the swatter smeared and stained. I collected all the bodies To see what death would bring: Mama paid me seventeen cents (and some were only wings!). Today at school we learned about How baby seals die: “Mama, did you make a hat Out of all those flies?”
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 2:48 AM UTC
Mama, Did You Make a Hat?