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"wiggle" poems
I just wanna make you wet Rub my **** on your **** till that ***** fire is lit Feel my breath on your skin as we begin I am sin I will win Passion spills from within Let me fill I am real my hard **** will thrill Undo your seal with my drill..inhibitions I **** Let us fuck..It is what we were created to do Me and you..feel my ***** when I'm inside of you Kiss your lips Lick your neck **** positioned and set Slide deep inside wetness my guide As we pound..love the sound..grunting while I wiggle it around Find your spot..make it hot...squirming from my **** Let it go from your soul..lose total control Feel you gush..As I crush your ******** rush I am lust you can trust..till I turn to dust Created to fuck..to **** you I must....
0
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 5:28 PM UTC
Wet
You wonder why I wiggle so much why my legs bounce, and my hands twitch. Truth is, my mind can't slow down It doesn't know how to take a day off, its far too good at tormenting me more and more with each passing second. -JRM
0
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
Wonder
To expel intestinal gases through the **** The definition makes it sound kinda heinous. Whether you pass wind or pass gas, either way it comes out your *** Farts are loud and some silent but deadly, you can make it sound like a medley. Farts are cool and sometimes funny, lookout for ones that become runny. Some like to **** in your face, it may cause pink eye, and sting like mace. Farts can smell and usually bad, must be a duck, says your dad. I have farts that never stink, although some were on the brink. Dog farts will make you take cover, the smell lingers and starts to hover. Woman never **** but watch out when they do, it can be brutal, once their comfortable with you. If in certain places you must hold it in, farting in church is considered a sin. A good **** can make you feel good, its part of life and fully understood. Every **** deserves a smile or a giggle, don't forget to give your *** a shake or a wiggle. For ones who think farting is disgusting, I bet your ******* needs a good dusting.
0
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
****
** “Except for needs I can pack everything I have 
into my old black sea-bag.”  * ** "I wish I had written that line, I said loud enough for him to hear." He shuffled around in his stool and raised his cup to get   hit with a refill. Frustration wiggle I call it, you know like when your dad couldn’t let you struggle with a puzzle. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot announced his irritation "Where have you been, swimming shallow side?" "I stated swatting away needs like mosquitoes on sweat when I was seven." He peered past his coffee, furrowed his brow and rubbed his tongue over his lower lip. "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, why do you keep saying that, I asked" "Guess you’ve never been in the military. College man I reckin, fancy degrees and you don't know Alpha Zulu?" * From Alpha Zulu by Gary Lilley
0
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
My **** follows me everywhere! Wiggle wiggle, poke poke, jiggle jiggle. At the fridge in night I've a friend by my side. By my backside. On, my backside. Stuck with humidity to the toilet seat on a rainy day, that's right! The bathroom exists, and on a toilet do I sit. At least four or five times daily. Stuck to chair, playing with hair with one hand and a controller in the other. Pumping up and down and in circles as I jump squat. Jump squat! To share if you dare put your palm down there to squeeze. Grab slap, wibble wibble.
0
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
My ****
My sisters have witchy feet. Their words, not mine. If someone else puts them down I firmly draw the line. When they are laughing, Just because they are together, The joy I hear from them Seems to change the weather. It might be chilly or gray But today the clouds evaporate. Inside it’s all warm and cozy, And I do not exaggerate. They manage to find something That they can all laugh about Even when that laughter rises To the level of three sided shouts. It usually starts when one dances And turns it into a wiggle. Then all three of them break out In wild, uncontrollable giggles. Or a memory will get triggered Of something outrageous And the laughter takes over. It is immediately contagious. I am always rewarded by this Circus of the instantly absurd That turns into the best of all Sounds I have ever heard. May I wish all of you have What has happened to me; To have such close members Of our often silly family.
0
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 9:05 PM UTC
WITCHY FEET
As your salt stings my chapped lips and my open wounds I come less and less to you You grit your teeth into dust that carries through your heinous breath that makes my eyes water and my heart ache And I cannot believe not too long ago I turned to you for care and comfort and compassion but instead I was caught in a tight spot lacking wiggle room I can feel you burning a hole through my chest as I ***** words and phrases that don't make sense when put together like "I love when you make me cry"
0
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 11:56 PM UTC
desamation of character
*You light up Like a cigarette I want to breathe you in And have you burn my throat To wiggle your way into my lungs And rip them apart Take my breath away And replace it with smoke Poison my body With this cancer Stain my teeth And fingertips A faint yellow So I can remember the sun And forget about my maroon veins That run sideways Like the horizon On the vertical roads Of my arms and legs.* -CsR
0
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
Cigarette
my girl loves a girl they kiss all the time candy melts an sugar **** oh god it's sublime glitter pink feet arched sometimes its a show they do it all night mouths ******* tongues fire and light wet drool kisses sweet voices tingle **** brushing lips voluptuous mingle butter and ***** coos and weeping ***** tears they dance and they wiggle im the king of Siam both come to me im the luckiest man the god of ****
0
Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 11:00 AM UTC
The Second Girl
Frisky, little, swimmer danceful wiggle dips Yellowy, orange, shimmer puckering fishy lips Thoughtful, quiet, feller never any yips Lonely, curious, critter Got any life tips?
0
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 11:20 AM UTC
GoldFish
One fine morning on my way to work I met a real dinosaur in big boots and a mischievous smirk I’m kinda lonely he said just visiting this town I don’t have any friends and thats bringing me kinda down He looked kinda sad with his tiny Dino eyes I’d have to call in late and explain it to the office guys First we went out for ice cream then we played a video game He cracked a lot of dinosaur jokes which were all kinda lame When he would laugh his mouth would open wide Which sorta kinda scared me and made me want to hide His Dino tail would wiggle and his laces would always come loose It was funny trying to watch him tie up his dinosaur shoes Then we went to Iceland and all the rides were cool It was really spectacular seeing a dinosaur floating in the swimming pool Then we were really hungry and we went out to dine He scared all the waiters and waitresses and drank up all the wine I climbed up on his back and he went for a run Omigosh this day was perfect I was having so much fun Everywhere we walked people screamed and ran at the big stomping dinosaur causing all the traffic jams If only they would listen If only they could see Mr. Dinosaur is just a nice guy just like you and me Our perfect day was over Dino had to go back home probably back to Jurassic Park and left me here alone Next morning at work was a ****** such a tiresome bore I just wanted to leave the office and run out the office door When the clock stuck five I finally decided to leave I left my dull office and Lo & behold I just could not believe Standing before me in front of my very eyes stood my dinosaur buddy what a nice surprise! We talked and talked for hours even after dark and when the day was over I decided to move in to Jurassic Park Now we’re never lonely Dinosaur and me Dinosaur has a friend and I have family
0
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 4:17 AM UTC
I Met a Dinosaur
One fine morning on my way to work I met a real dinosaur in big boots and a mischievous smirk I’m kinda lonely he said just visiting this town I don’t have any friends and thats bringing me kinda down He looked kinda sad with his tiny Dino eyes I’d have to call in late and explain it to the office guys First we went out for ice cream then we played a video game He cracked a lot of dinosaur jokes which were all kinda lame When he would laugh his mouth would open wide Which sorta kinda scared me and made me want to hide His Dino tail would wiggle and his laces would always come loose It was funny trying to watch him tie up his dinosaur shoes Then we went to Iceland and all the rides were cool It was really spectacular seeing a dinosaur floating in the swimming pool Then we were really hungry and we went out to dine He scared all the waiters and waitresses and drank up all the wine I climbed up on his back and he went for a run Omigosh this day was perfect I was having so much fun Everywhere we walked people screamed and ran at the big stomping dinosaur causing all the traffic jams If only they would listen If only they could see Mr. Dinosaur is just a nice guy just like you and me Our perfect day was over Dino had to go back home probably back to Jurassic Park and left me here alone Next morning at work was a ****** such a tiresome bore I just wanted to leave the office and run out the office door When the clock stuck five I finally decided to leave I left my dull office and Lo & behold I just could not believe Standing before me in front of my very eyes stood my dinosaur buddy what a nice surprise! We talked and talked for hours even after dark and when the day was over I decided to move in to Jurassic Park Now we’re never lonely Dinosaur and me Dinosaur has a friend and I have family
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68
Fill the hollow crevice of my existence With light, show me a warmer way Stop numbness from taking over I am slipping further0 into dismay. Down the senseless pit of despair My direction is out of control Darkness paralyzes my mind Strangling thoughts that crawl and roll Constricting my body until I give up I kick the air but cannot land a blow The empty space will never stop resisting The sound of my own scream has become my foe. The endless void swallows my voice Here the tears I cry fall forever The lies I have told mean nothing now I knew my will was always meant to sever. Faced with nothingness all around This is my life; a big black hole It's slowly shoving me outwards Little by little, pain taking over my soul. Chaos has reality gripped In a tight but unsure grasp Confusing the mass of color And motion contained in its clasp Bullied by the tidal wave of isolation Head above water though it is strong Giving up the ability to move Surviving by the current floating me along. My consciousness is traveling lethargically I no longer feel my torso or limbs Attempt to wiggle a finger but it won't budge It takes all my strength to speak and part dry lips. This is where existence ceases Where time's beginning meets its end An unending loop of monotonous emotions displayed A breif instant in which Eternity life does suspend
0
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 6:35 PM UTC
Fill Me Up
look at your fingers. extend & wiggle them. look closer. fingerprints. not another person on earth has the same ones as you. you are alive. m.f.
0
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 2:58 PM UTC
fingerprints
My mom sleeps early. She isn't a night owl. She lives in the day. And everything around when the sky is bright. the streets are loud. She leaves the house at 9pm. sharp And went off in her snores. My dad stays up late. Until twelve. And when the last 60 seconds ended the day. He'd turn off the TV "Has been a long day" he'd say. Yawn. And he'd go to bed. And me. I'm no bubbly girl. or pretty. cheesy blondy. Maybe just a good nerd. But I know the night. And I love it. 1a.m. is free. My private afternoon. with cookies and tea. And I'd turn on the lights. Walk with my ankles light off the ground. Turtle hasn't sleep. no he's like me! He'd wiggle his tail and swim towards my face. As if to say, "heya buddie" he should have eaten but he knows. he knows. I feed my Turtle at one in the morning. And he never says no.
0
Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
I feed my turtle at one in the morning
I lap up your wetness like a kitten its milk. I wash my face with your moisture, you wiggle and moan. You swallow me whole, like some carny performer. Emptied, I sigh, You lick your lips and grin.
0
Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 12:56 PM UTC
Oral ***
My pink mechanical pencil Is sitting right beside my computer The brand and lead size is worn off, from all the use The eraser has been changed Countless times There is graphite dust in a few places in the grip My other pencil the same but purple Lost its clip I wiggled my pencil too much Which is why the purple one Is out of order When I'm bored or anxious I'll pick up my pencil Spin it, wiggle it, open and close it Take apart and put back together Anything that can be done to my pencil Will be done Thanks to my constant need for motion
0
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 2:32 PM UTC
Pencil Anxiety
pretty pearl anklet adorning your foot tiara crown princess ***** cow all dressed up in a dark red cherry sequined come **** me dress black lacquered nails body beautiful prepped for ordeal by gang bang and pretty girl strangle torture blood **** wiggle wiggle **** pink aglow glistening hive your mouth piece bilingual fucky and baby talk all manicured and bejeweled glitter and tears ***** food inch worm lover little bludgeon your excited for a bed of nails what a luxury legs spread wide ***** drool melt your scent a silk **** cocktail in thick puce stained pink milk pom poms ****** beyond tabulation come sweet cow its time for slaughter down on your haunches you look up thrilled dark dreams do come true i love you like the bog loves bones embalmed in spice
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Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC
***** Princess...Ero ****
What did you say to me? How did you say to be? Scent of the flowers sweet, I fell off the path; the beat. Metamorphoses buzzing creep. Bumblebee, Bumblebee Nectar pollen and wiggle-dance, Tear off the shirt and pants, Without it I’m incomplete, Rotting in self-defeat, Awashed in a wild sea, Bumblebee, Bumblebee Buzzin’ so high and flyin’ Honeycomb drunken Mayan, Falling west, rising east, The party will not surcease, While I am the Bumble-beast! Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee, Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee The flight it takes off and from, As flowers of life become, Praying up to the Sun, What am I imagining?  (image-gen-nun) August vino de lum Bumblebee, Bumblebee Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee, Bumblebee, Bumblebee I am the Bumblebee
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Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
Bumblebee
There's a private, invisible flock of comedians chanting soapbox knock-knocks in my parking lot             Noisy, clang, boom thingy aloft and clipping the air around the slimy snow And why does ajax keep butting its nose into everything I’ve got? They’re all just boom-lost facades in a canonical, sly-faced rant. So slanted, frankly, and poised toward a milder pace that the clang clipped the frosty branches beneath a drunken frat-house party. Ah, the dandy-clang : native to the sandy graves and morose olive branches.             But only on the night of the dandy-clang, candy dances for the branches are not partial to missed solid caches             of want and woe             of tongue and toe and seldom shaken beneath the overbearing heat of a white-faced predator for times it was that here and now, because the wind had bitten harder What am I saying? That if the dandy-clang came. And if it produced the branches of the dancing eve fame... with but not together. The clouds up in the ether that lake and earth should wither
0
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 7:10 PM UTC
Wiggle Room between a Carrot and the Potatoes
Tied with your wrists attached to your ankles, pretty in pink. Your mind goes numb, as you lay helpless trying to think Think of what is to become, as your sir hovers ever so near Holds your head in my hands, looks in your eyes a silent stare My lips touch your soft lips engaged in a passionate kiss I move away you reach wanting more, my lips you do miss Open your mouth wide, the gag is placed inside, now mute Straddling your head I stare in to your eyes, love is absolute Between your legs I slide, my tongue in to my wet slit My mouth ******* and licking your nice engorged **** Your backside is invaded with a nice cold steel plug You wiggle in bliss, your heart races as if on a new drug My soft subtle ***** drips your love on to the ground My *** I hold in my hands so very nice and round My tongue deeper in to you, as you convulse and *** I release your ******* your heart is beating like a drum You turn over and get on all fours, you are such a good pet I come behind you and mount you, waiting anxious no fret Enter you deep, enter you hard, your release a loud moan My **** invading you ever so deep never again shall we be alone My **** ready to explode, as I smack my *** with a bare hand You *** again as I fill you deep, my seed mixing as we planned Remove your gag hear your words, the words of love I need to hear Collapse together rest for a moment, eye to eye stuck in a stare
0
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 2:46 PM UTC
Tied in Pink
all my life ive only thought of one thing YOU you are why i got an education why i tried so hard to make beautiful things with my hands why i got dressed up why i learned to sing and dance why i never stopped trying to make a living why i always went to the gym and worked out to be diamond hard why i was polite or inconsolable why i ran seven miles a day why i tried to be charming why i could never stop playing with myself why i got through james joyce why i learned conversational hypnosis neuro linguistics magick and witch craft to invoke a spell that would compel YOU to dance the wiggle wiggle naked from hot rhythms and slow melodic sways as i prayed burning blood red candles during the darkest moon for adorations with endless masturbations to your beautiful *** and feet for tender red lipped mercies kisses kisses kisses because you are beauty piqued from your golden angelic head soft silken hair to your sweet pink arched feet and twinkling painted toes magnetized to yank my eyes and be your **** boy *** toy my goddess glitter **** queen of heaven all paradise any man needs BUT sometimes i couldn't have YOU and it velvet crushed me taught me hopelessness broke my will gave me fear made me cry and shiver inside tore my heart to smithereens twisted my in-nerds like jagged metal melting me as i spiraled down into madness all burning veins of fire until inferiority dragged deep suffocating me shuddery like winters midnight freeze and howling winds through hollow desolations marrow-less bones
0
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
Vulnerable
all my life ive only thought of one thing YOU you are why i got an education why i tried so hard to make beautiful things with my hands why i got dressed up why i learned to sing and dance why i never stopped trying to make a living why i always went to the gym and worked out to be diamond hard why i was polite or inconsolable why i ran seven miles a day why i tried to be charming why i could never stop playing with myself why i got through james joyce why i learned conversational hypnosis neuro linguistics magick and witch craft to invoke a spell that would compel YOU to dance the wiggle wiggle naked from hot rhythms and slow melodic sways as i prayed burning blood red candles during the darkest moon for adorations with endless masturbations to your beautiful *** and feet for tender red lipped mercies kisses kisses kisses because you are beauty piqued from your golden angelic head soft silken hair to your sweet pink arched feet and twinkling painted toes magnetized to yank my eyes and be your **** boy *** toy my goddess glitter **** queen of heaven all paradise any man needs BUT sometimes i couldn't have YOU and it velvet crushed me taught me hopelessness broke my will gave me fear made me cry and shiver inside tore my heart to smithereens twisted my in-nerds like jagged metal melting me as i spiraled down into madness all burning veins of fire until inferiority dragged deep suffocating me shuddery like winters midnight freeze and howling winds through hollow desolations marrow-less bones
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83
The brass trumpet sounds In the dark, where weeps aloud And hearts are made of silver To match her necklace that slithers As a snake which tangos When their bracelets dangle No one seems much surprised For her dance, the cobra rise To greet the man on the street As he is poisoned head to feet Shake the jeepers, I'm telling you If not, may your spirit be cool She is definitely a piece of work And drunken whispers offer jerks But, they do not have a clue This woman moves to voodoo Wiggle... Jiggle.. Lady Dancer You eat them like a malice cancer Wiggle... Jiggle... Lady Dancer Tomorrow, you will have to answer.
0
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 9:24 AM UTC
Belly Dancers
circles squares and triangles shapes I learned as a kid I trace them on your spine I smile as you wiggle your best attempt not to move fingers move to make 3 points like sliding on silk my fingers skate across your body tracing shapes from memory
0
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
"triangles walk"
Another morning in the life Of a P.T.D, I slurped my Juice back all  400 ml, then Stretched up, fingers Wiggling as mother picked Me up. Snuggles in the morning Nothing better, to show I'm Loved. But back to business, As I turned my dummy to The opposite side, the taste Is better every time its turned Soothing with each **** It was nearly breakfast time A belly is never wrong, MMmmm... Toast and jam, I smile At mummy with my Cheshire Jam smiled face. "Silly little man" As she wipes the smudges From all over my face. A case to solve, was my plan, The missing statue of SANDMAN BOB tm. It was here before, but now Gone, the prized possession Of hairy dog, as I pat his head And he licks my face Yuckkkk.... Doggy that was yuck, he wags His tail and then he is off. What a morning so much done, Time for a nap then detective Work to be done. I wake to Dads voice, "Morning little man" "How was your nap" As i give my answer with a Yawn and a smile, he gives A cuddle then off to work for Hours of fun and playing games. The clues to be seen the trail To be found, for I'm ***** Trained Detective"* And no case is to far, as Long as I can have a nap And a cuddle, maybe a Little sip and a gulp, here On look out of what is to Be found. Hairy dog is sleeping in his bed, I hear a noise I hear a Sound?? What a strange noise, "Snoring" "NO" "Bottom belches" "No funny smells" As I lift up his blanky Softly so not to wake doggy's sleep, And their he is safe and sound. "SANDMAN BOB" "Playing hide and go seek" Under hairy dogs nose and bottom, As he sleeps it does squeak, it Does beep, I lift it up and under His paw, to surprise him when He awakens. A tail shall wiggle And flop around, but the case was Solved and a happy smile found. ***** Trained Detective* does it Again, but for now it is nap time, A new case, a new thing to be Found. I will see you all again Soon, But now its snuggles Time with mummy in bed. As I close my eyes night, night I turn my dummy once more, As sheep float quietly over my head.
0
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
PTD ***** Trained Detective)
Another morning in the life Of a P.T.D, I slurped my Juice back all  400 ml, then Stretched up, fingers Wiggling as mother picked Me up. Snuggles in the morning Nothing better, to show I'm Loved. But back to business, As I turned my dummy to The opposite side, the taste Is better every time its turned Soothing with each **** It was nearly breakfast time A belly is never wrong, MMmmm... Toast and jam, I smile At mummy with my Cheshire Jam smiled face. "Silly little man" As she wipes the smudges From all over my face. A case to solve, was my plan, The missing statue of SANDMAN BOB tm. It was here before, but now Gone, the prized possession Of hairy dog, as I pat his head And he licks my face Yuckkkk.... Doggy that was yuck, he wags His tail and then he is off. What a morning so much done, Time for a nap then detective Work to be done. I wake to Dads voice, "Morning little man" "How was your nap" As i give my answer with a Yawn and a smile, he gives A cuddle then off to work for Hours of fun and playing games. The clues to be seen the trail To be found, for I'm ***** Trained Detective"* And no case is to far, as Long as I can have a nap And a cuddle, maybe a Little sip and a gulp, here On look out of what is to Be found. Hairy dog is sleeping in his bed, I hear a noise I hear a Sound?? What a strange noise, "Snoring" "NO" "Bottom belches" "No funny smells" As I lift up his blanky Softly so not to wake doggy's sleep, And their he is safe and sound. "SANDMAN BOB" "Playing hide and go seek" Under hairy dogs nose and bottom, As he sleeps it does squeak, it Does beep, I lift it up and under His paw, to surprise him when He awakens. A tail shall wiggle And flop around, but the case was Solved and a happy smile found. ***** Trained Detective* does it Again, but for now it is nap time, A new case, a new thing to be Found. I will see you all again Soon, But now its snuggles Time with mummy in bed. As I close my eyes night, night I turn my dummy once more, As sheep float quietly over my head.
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80
Night sets, The sun falls. Moon and stars become uncovered. A pink faced child crawls under the covers. A cardboard book is clutched in soft bands. A                           f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n looks innocent and careless. Mother hen, baby calf, wiggly pig, their  smiling faces send the child off to sleep. That child remembers that story. They remember the smiling faces of mother hen, baby calf, wiggly pig. That child is no long a child, they no longer read that cardboard farm book. They remember their childhood with that book, they blur into one. They see a barn just like the                                f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n just like the picture in the cardboard farm book. They stop to revisit their childhood, they stop to revisit their innocence, they stop to revisit those smiling faces.                              f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n is only a step away, that no longer child pushes open the sun warmed door. They except innocence, they except those smiling faces, but they did not see what they expected. The innocence of their childhood was a lie, there are no smiling faces here. This is not the                               f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n from their cardboard book, from their childhood, they blurred into one. Mother hen is not smiling, her beak is cut off with a hot blade, she cannot move her wings in her cage, her daughters are taken to live her fate, her sons are ground alive to be feed to her, mother hen is not smiling. Baby calf is not smiling, baby calf is just born, then taken by a man in blood soaked boots, baby calf watches helpless as their mother cries, as their mother chews the metal bars, as their mother fights the electric shocks. Baby calf does not know their father, neither does their mother. Baby calf is put in a metal cage, they will live a year or two, baby calf will not move, that is the point of veal. Baby calf is not smiling. Wiggly pig is not smiling, wiggly pig can only wiggle, only enough so her babies can drink her milk, she cannot reach them though. Wiggly pig will watch her babies grow, but beyond what is natural, beyond what their hearts can handle, but there is a big demand for bacon. Wiggly pig can see her babies hung from their hooves, and slit open alive, but wiggly pig can only wiggle. Wiggly pig is not smiling. That                     f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n is not as innocent as the cardboard farm book. That farm in the book, it was a lie, but that cardboard farm book was their childhood right? They blur into one. Their childhood was a lie. That no longer child lived a lie, because power wanted them to only see the smiling faces, they wanted them to believe that farm in the book to be true, not the lie that really is. Power took away their innocence of childhood. Power took away babies from their mothers. Power took away my smile. The                      f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n from my child no longer sends me off to sleep. Instead it keeps me awake with the image of a farm, not the farm in the cardboard book though, a farm not filled with smiling animals, a farm filled with cries, blood, sorrow, pain, horror, death. A farm that is a lie.
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Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 10:00 PM UTC
childhood innocence
Night sets, The sun falls. Moon and stars become uncovered. A pink faced child crawls under the covers. A cardboard book is clutched in soft bands. A                           f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n looks innocent and careless. Mother hen, baby calf, wiggly pig, their  smiling faces send the child off to sleep. That child remembers that story. They remember the smiling faces of mother hen, baby calf, wiggly pig. That child is no long a child, they no longer read that cardboard farm book. They remember their childhood with that book, they blur into one. They see a barn just like the                                f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n just like the picture in the cardboard farm book. They stop to revisit their childhood, they stop to revisit their innocence, they stop to revisit those smiling faces.                              f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n is only a step away, that no longer child pushes open the sun warmed door. They except innocence, they except those smiling faces, but they did not see what they expected. The innocence of their childhood was a lie, there are no smiling faces here. This is not the                               f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n from their cardboard book, from their childhood, they blurred into one. Mother hen is not smiling, her beak is cut off with a hot blade, she cannot move her wings in her cage, her daughters are taken to live her fate, her sons are ground alive to be feed to her, mother hen is not smiling. Baby calf is not smiling, baby calf is just born, then taken by a man in blood soaked boots, baby calf watches helpless as their mother cries, as their mother chews the metal bars, as their mother fights the electric shocks. Baby calf does not know their father, neither does their mother. Baby calf is put in a metal cage, they will live a year or two, baby calf will not move, that is the point of veal. Baby calf is not smiling. Wiggly pig is not smiling, wiggly pig can only wiggle, only enough so her babies can drink her milk, she cannot reach them though. Wiggly pig will watch her babies grow, but beyond what is natural, beyond what their hearts can handle, but there is a big demand for bacon. Wiggly pig can see her babies hung from their hooves, and slit open alive, but wiggly pig can only wiggle. Wiggly pig is not smiling. That                     f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n is not as innocent as the cardboard farm book. That farm in the book, it was a lie, but that cardboard farm book was their childhood right? They blur into one. Their childhood was a lie. That no longer child lived a lie, because power wanted them to only see the smiling faces, they wanted them to believe that farm in the book to be true, not the lie that really is. Power took away their innocence of childhood. Power took away babies from their mothers. Power took away my smile. The                      f                        d          a                    e                   r                r                          m                      c                b                     u                 a                     t                  r                     e                 n from my child no longer sends me off to sleep. Instead it keeps me awake with the image of a farm, not the farm in the cardboard book though, a farm not filled with smiling animals, a farm filled with cries, blood, sorrow, pain, horror, death. A farm that is a lie.
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