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Tom Leveille Mar 2014
2002:
today i kicked the door
to history off it's hinges
my jealous frame:
still too proud to say a word
it seems my folks forgot
to pencil in growth marks
cause they thought their boy
would never grow out of small breath
******* dead, years now buried
and i bare his name
too many syllables
for my father to go back
fish & play football
to stand in the yard and play catch

1994:
my mom, the bombshell in retrospect
broke her back in her sleep
a thousand times
since the stairwell in 87'
she still sits for spills
post nuclear about settling
now from the couch
she's a weather report
spouting nonsense
that makes my father
grow grey, crack remotes
& slam doors to dark rooms
abandoning ship
for "cheers" & "scienfeld"
while my mother
sometimes forgets
and sets his place at the table
and my appetite is abducted
by family photos
my mother says things like
"go see your brother today"
-- Johnny's long gone
don't you remember?
we buried him
the day your smile died

2014:
you are inches from me
******* a stray hair
caught in the fabric of your coat
the last remnants of a dog
we laid to rest last week
and here we are
in the hospital again
people don't shake like dogs
finality is found
in the eyes of humans
passing archways
into shallow rooms
where plague and prayer
are the only songs sung
round the stagnant clocks
it makes me wonder
if the clipboards cry
over being the last thing
someone ever writes on
take a number, have a seat
stay a while
i am back, 7 years old
& there are different doors now
they buried the ones
you kicked in that night in '92
when my lungs
were filled with holy water
you never stopped smoking
*i never grew out of asthma
Nat Lipstadt May 2019
the spring mantra arrives with distinctive citified sparkles

a family of ducklings splash, mimicking young children,
shaking, spraying, squeaking, babies bath bathing,
jumping in and out of a fountain pool
of a tall-storied Manhattan apartment building,
the mother-leader attends them well for she recalls
the untimely end of the babies of last year,
lost to wanderlust on York Avenue,
cars and taxis as instruments of mass murdering,
but new spring is the season of new birth

the Cercis Siliquastrum tree trunk (!) oddly sprouts
unusual pink flowers
well before it’s branches grow up into a fully blossoming tree,
a signed spring time ritual, but since it is a/k/a, the Judas Tree,
we wonder if spring hints of Cerci Lannister’s fate betrayed,
in this, her final May dance, oh, which Judas brother/lover
will bring us a winter fin finale

the temperature control dial busted, the variability too wide,
the youngers are skipping the interregnum season,
going direct to elect shorts and T-shirt, while those who no longer bloom in the semi-warm, recall the wet chill of past evenings,
voting to dress defensively, wearing their aging skepticism
aware that all changes are exact crossing line-defined, wrapped in
medium weight coats, concealing embarrassing gloves in pocket,
decorative silk scarfs for non-decorative purposed,
all betting the under/over the spring is here all-in not yet sighted

the streets are busy, the momentary pleasantries
of warm sky and sun push the apartment dwellers out,
a magnetic force pulls us to the outside to exhale, in order to inhale,
guises manufactured excuses appear, a loaf of bread, a latte necessity,
the children desert happily their wintery confinement,
by pushing their own carriages, containing in their stead,
their lilting accented nannies, excited by their version of spring break

Me? toy shopping for this month brings rashers of birthdays,
more May galorey, singing come Dancer and Prancer, Ian and Isabel, Alex and not-a-baby anymore Wendy, and because the weather so pleasant, cautions ignored, the credit card swiped repeatedly, frequently and joyously, xmas reimagined, another May time ritual, rooted in the September month of *******, of staying warm, staving off winter *******, and winter planting for spring harvesting

children score grand-multiplicities for god made in his place
grand parental substitutes, each with two hands each equal,
so both must be filled with maypole ribbon, brightly colored
toy bags, presents wrapped in paper unicorns and all manner of
sporting *****, as we turn 2 and 6, 7 and who ate 8?

all that my eyes did see when we surfed strolled the streets,
vignettes fell like the spring rains, they, now, from daytime banished,
to after-midnight to do their breast feeding of tulips and weeds,
letting little children grow up snuggling in still over-heated rooms,
naked legs kicking off winter blankety snow remnants while dreaming of springing onwards and forward
into the party of life by inhaling nature’s

nature.
5-3-19  606pm
Quentin Briscoe Aug 2012
Billy's ******* Pennies
Dont tickle Jenny's Kitty
But Jonny's Fifty Milli
Make ******* Pennies silly
And Jenny's Filthy *****
Loves Jonny's Harry Milli
Even Tho Jonny got A Milli
Other Jenny's
But Billy's Lonely Willie
Only Longs for Jenny's Kitty
But Jenny looks so Silly
Chasing after Jonny's Milli
When Jonny's Chasing Billy's ******* Pennies
zebra Dec 2017
**** men
predatory *** hounds
chasing skirts and tights
aching **** idiots
disciples of Eros
Christs of fetish
reconciling nothing
veiling that principled demeanor
of feminist culture
"of don't objectify me".....translation
sensual form is not natures ruse
machine Eve must
override override override

well the id does not negotiate
the superstructure
of affected political tele-reality
starring
the liberal chattering class
who speculate male motives
to be some vainglorious power trip
while corporatized media personalities
feign out of control lust
as a mental disorder
and
sit up like shuddering Pekingese
yessing the lascivious
as a fiction

no ladies
its not just power
theories are not testosterone
it is pure unadulterated
relentless
irreducible
urge to merge
like the beluga **** channel
sea world as you've never seen it before
where male dolphins
batter and *******
the weaker ***
in search of feral harmony

in an overbuilt society
yet to become a civilization
are we
scissored between a wild ****** id
of the damed
and the Victorian sacred
of the damed

oh you silky damsels
makin men moody and humid
pure **** heroine
a poison ivy of ***
like a rash
givin men folk the itch
cant stop the twitch
rubber *******
in a rubbing frenzy
from your soaking heat and odor

we are  a rumbling of muttering torments
for the forbidden taste
of you
oooow
oooow
we are pan in a mad dance
for glistening shanks
and buttery kisses
we are the early bird looking for the worm
hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell
a constellation of infatuation and lechery
mad with adoration
love slaves in a raging furnace of desire
*** addicts
that just say yes
turgid dogs
hole sniffers
voluptuous monsters
all johnny apple seed
and sometimes your salvation
as you are ours
knowing that sometimes
real eroticism eclipses morality

and yes my darlings*

NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
Mike Hauser Jul 2023
Did Billy really give out Wet *******
Like they said all of his life
When he was out cruising and found people snoozing
He'd always find time to sneak up behind

Licking his finger like he'd just had chicken dinner
Without the slightest of sound
Then ever so gently, placing it intently
Squishly into the ear canal

Was it the single action or multiple reaction
That always seemed to satisfy
From the loads of screaming, Billy would be reeling
Chuckling with pure delight

With a glistening finger in hand always lingering
Looking to wow the crowed
You knew a Wet Willie from the hand of Billy
Would soon be making the rounds

From a Sunday church pew he knew what to do
Or even a Friday bus ride
Perhaps the innocence of a lonely park bench
Singled out on the Upper East Side

At Billy's bequest, Wet ******* were best
When they came packaged up in a surprise
It could be said if you hadn't already guessed
That Billy found his purpose in life
louis rams Oct 2014
A family is at the dinner table. The son asks the father, “Dad, how many kinds of ***** are there?” The father, surprised, answers, “Well, son, a woman goes through three phases. In her 20s, a woman’s ******* are like melons, round and firm. In her 30s and 40s, they are like pears, still nice, hanging a bit. After 50, they are like onions.” “Onions?” the son asks. “Yes. You see them and they make you cry.” This infuriated his wife and daughter. The daughter asks, “Mom, how many different kinds of ******* are there?” The mother smiles and says, “Well, dear, a man goes through three phases also. In his 20s, his ***** is like an oak tree, mighty and hard. In his 30s and 40s, it’s like a birch, flexible but reliable. After his 50s, it’s like a Christmas tree.” “A Christmas tree?” the daughter asks. “Yes, dead from the root up and the ***** are just for decoration..****
It sat on the tip of her finger
oh such a diminutive fellow
never knew how small and cute
was this sweet amphibian called newt

I had only seen them on telly
and I know it sounds rather silly
but to see one in the flesh
was a revelation and gave me the *******

The porous skin
of this silky thing
it's mouth would struggle with a slug
this adoring sweet micro little thing

It just sat there as cool as a cucumber
I told my daughter to a shady leaf put under
and as he slowly scampered away
my daughter and me did bid him adieu


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris


By NeonSolaris

© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
yea big yosef
expose government expos
that's all I know
so **** the cash flow
but I make cash flow like creflo
never chased a dolla
yo it makes me wanna holla
not talking Marvin Gaye
um tAlking bout the words I lay spray
techs but prefer aks miss ya next birthday
make ya best ya worse day
never thirsty
stay quenching like Gatorade
make serenades
in the street
ask big leech
we after the money and the power
leaving scars on ya face
eradicate the weak out the race
I set the pace beat the case
cuz they know they place
uh we mob like Italians Mafioso's
put holes in ones
like gulf course
with ya open torso so
ya know
the game is to be sold not told
and since I'm standing large
you know we don't fold holdem
like texas pushing lexuses beamers caddys to
Bentley coupes
quick to shoot through my 30 odd six poppin licks like kilos bricks
in the hood it's understood
that when we play the game
we go for flames
but miss the burn though
we go ever where riots show quick blows
make for blood out ya nose
fluid leakin mind sinking
I mo assist than pastors to deacons
**** Spanish broads
from Columbian to Puerto Rican
I'm seekin
out the best from east north south and the west I guess
I'm tying to take down the commission
no General admjssion just listen
closely to the sounds of shots glocks pops it don't stop
til the elite off the top


uh who ya know do it better
pack a berretta
still.rock Cosby Coogi Sweaters
get hos ***** wetter ***** slayer mack mayor
say ya rhymes with me
the best on the master of the ceremonies
like ghost P come close to thee
watch my gun burn thee
like sun burn ****** neva get a turn
after i touch the mic
i melt **** hotter than lava get
out of a volcano
kick rhymes since i was embryo
make ****** sing soprano
if they try to my money though
we flips keys then take trips to Belize
sneeze
on the track bless me says me
my pedigree is nasty as nas back in 93
ya see naw cuz i braille spotlight
n the limelight come in yo dreams at night
freddie cougar with tha 9 double m luger
make bodies flex like lex lugar
i drive a jaguar 20 inch rims across the bar ghetto superstar
n think before ya speak
think before ya blink?
my rhymes be confusin' as a riddle from the Sphinx
they can jinx
me all they want but all they get is a gun taunt amerikkaz most wanted
pop steels only if ya want it
representin' like ****** in the pen holdin' down on lock
i **** a glock for every year
that ya aint on the block
one luv to my army none can harm
if i got nations forming
every brother gotta ski mask
quick to blast from the past to present
never get tense or hesitant
we drop ******* puff on phillies
knock fools out til they look ****** n silly
i can go on & on til tha break of dawn
rappers get no delight when i grab the mic its like friday night lights
uh one punch one round
n you can tell i won before it begun
by listening to the crowds sound uh
Joanna Oz Sep 2014
I can still feel flight
Of buoyant fleeting
Motion flowing through
These now weighted limbs.
And my heart still sputters
In 5, 6, 7, 8 time
To Balanchine's divine
Choreographies -- Oh,
Spinning in ecstasy,
Visions of ghosts in me,
Waltzing with ******* and,
Overworked tendencies,
Blink -----
And you'll miss
That moment when
Dreams became ash
Falling from rafters.
Dust glistening in afterglow
Appears to shimmer
Even when it lands in your eyes.
JL Jan 2012
Bobby brown came down
And let me have a smoke

Talkin bout the rave scene
I don't want to go

He handed me a monkey
Eat your ****** snack

We walked downtown
To solid ground

To hear the cats meow
Yellow lights flash

In
And out

He threw me for a loop the loop

When he took me underground

But the chemical well-being
Kept me safe and sound

The lights were heaven
The dark was heaven
The lips were heaven
The sound
Like a million *******
Gave you the chillies
Don't wink or kiss the ground

One girl
Two girl
Three girl four

I don't dance

Not in this trance

A corner captain loud

I could see from my perch

In the corner of earth

That the ladies liked the beat

But I'm just a boy

In a room of noise

Looking for some sleep

I met billy the kid

With his nose full of ****

And his mouth leaking neon blue

His girlfriend

Sid had less hair than me

But her smile was sure right on for sure

I could tell in a hurry

That her mind wasn't blurry

Someone I could try talking to

She said

It may twenty third

Flipped me the bird

I was trippin or tripper I think




I loved her white skin

As it flashed in the din

Her black nails like daggers were sound

She pointed the nails

At like five different rooms

Telling me about working parts

There you've got boys who dance to the noise

Like techno party new

You have does over there

Flowers and hair

Rolling hard before midnight dream

Two glasses of water

A tab of the blotter

And I was gone before ten  thirty three

I lost bobby brown

To the tongue of the crowd

The speakers spoke

I have a dream

The crowd all
Cheered

But sound like a herd
Of a thousand white horses
Coming after me
Blue licks
Red licks
Light trips
My heart
I closed my eyes
For a minute of time
Electrons falling apart
I was thirsty and worried
I left in a hurry
Your brain looks like this on drugs

But when I looked at my phone

To see about the time

It's only midnight o clock
Robin Carretti May 2018
The
camera
on
me_
Modern Crimes to be
Or you forgot
Set the mood
Or set the stage
My home
Two lovers oversee

Distant
lover
home
My
head
met his sunset
The love reset

Don't hock
my best
China
South Carolina
cultured
Pearl
Ever finer
24 karat
Gold one-sided
Movie blinded

Pick
up the ((Ring))
Molly
Ringwald
Artist
Telemarketers
They cannot act
Like Bald eagles
The Bee Gees
Staying alive
Baby boomers

Place me set me
Marathon
runners
Free me
Bride and Dog Groomer
Barking
abilities

"Beverly Hill of Billies"
Five
willow
tree's
With
anyone
else
But for me?

"Whimpering *******"

To dream on
Singer Arrow=Smith

How much
he could
have
loved you yeah?

Mans best movie
and dog bark ee-me
Woof La femme bakery

Movie slavery
Not one ounce
of your undivided
attention

That bad movie

Webbed into a mesh
Monochrome
Flesh to flesh

*** Chromosome

Get me geared up
So willing movie set
His way
no way out
So pay up
"Coffee Creed"
movie cut
my lip

Harvest
pumpkin-head
We
mapped
his
Pitt bulls
long
tongue
In her
******* Jacks
Cheerleaders
Well packed
Honey Comb
Movie on the limb

Pocket comb
She left her heart
Movie set
tombstone
Hands
came out
Bella Italian gravy
That
((Hotshot))
graved me
Honey engraved
Bunches
of scary wits
Bunches of Honey
Oats
No redemption

College drunk dorm
Mega babes 3d glasses
Griswall honeymoon
vacation
light my Fire Morrison
Burned me house

A-D
Dump her
disorder
One  pill
makes
your  
movie
Eyes
stone
killer
Screen
LARGER_

Purple hazed me
underestimated
how to  
raise Movie  family

Do what
the
Romans
do drink
***** off
Sweet
Cherry
wine

Roaming hands
Not a valentine
Poem set
She-devil
Styrophome
I Smartphone
Apple-Computer
Made-man dumber

But no one listens!!
Maybe $$$ pants
I need to fasten

The robot
Alexa
Strike
Lotto lucky
Charge him
On his Visa

Next
door girl
Actress Mona
Homebody
His Bodyguard
Is home
Watching?
Diggity Dogs
barking up
Funeral home
Rock and
Roll hall of fame
Cleveland
playing a
game
dead
dying

Count to five trying
Only five fingers left
What happened in
the movie
set?
The movie can be boring old man snoring, please!! We need to make it fun I needed to perk it up a bit so it
fits inside my poem get your buttered up popcorn
Bill murray Jul 2015
Slurp slurp
Said the pig to the cop
They lived beside another
Their garden hoses went to the shop
A shop of little lilly *******
A limestone to shawtoo
A place of betsie face
They wrote mama I'm coming home soon
Marshall Gass Apr 2014
of course the sun peeled another layer of my onion skin
barbecued and burnt to a crisp finish
like lettuce in a deep dish of saucy
spices and herbs, coriander and cumin parsley and pain
thyme and rhyme, sage and age
beer and blue bottle flies
all in the name of  nature.

soon the dialogues became dialects and grandpa
guzzled too much ale so he went off to nourish
a rose bush discreetly behind the party pack
of people, swirling about in champagne glasses
and tight skirts tempting us slowly getting drunk voyeurs
with glimpses of heaven and tight buns
packed with ham and cheese and spikes of hot
chilli *******
all in the name of the great outdoors.

as the son set in the evening sky old dad
was eyeing up a guest on her third bubbly
her thinking swerved quickly to burnt sausages.
I was still enjoying the barbecued chick
with the two toned honeysuckle skin
and 34DD sized mushroom concockion
and that, my friends, was purely my nature.

when night came around in a flimsy dress
which showed figures of mountains and sparkles
the ideas in my head bruised by too much *****
buns, bottles and bronze conquests
had to answer the call of nature.

I returned to a field of many victories
grandpa was tending roses head down in the dirt
dad had disappeared with his 34DD mushroom delicacy
Mom was busy discussing politics with a horn-rimmed
gentleman, who this minute would take off
his spectacles and put on his testicles
and I went to bed with hot buns waiting.
all in natural instinct!

Author Notes

An evening party on a  nice barmy day with guests gathered to enjoy nature and all its offerings. Nature is to blame if things went a little astray. Nature does that!
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved.
Third Eye Candy Jul 2013
when no moon is the reason and it's that.
you may be the first one on the moon of your own real mccoy.
and oi vey ! you're about to have cancer but you're too busy dying from boredom !
you have straight teeth that crooked smiles get the *******
and the wisp of your future lays dormant
in the huge bend of your sinister
where the crimp is binding the pinch
and the hole is dropping
the gallstone
into the pudding
with your
beast.
Josh Koepp Apr 2013
Breaking news!
this'll just break you in two!
4 people in america died today!
*
Massive Explosions!

Neighborhood Terrified!

Possible Terrorist Involvement!
*

Also! I bet you didn't know folks!
this'll rattle your *******!
600 people just died of heart attacks
Right that second!
Wow!
9000 children starved in Africa,
30 People were hung in cartel controlled mexico!
Women and Children
545 People were ***** in the last ten minutes
All happening today!
Tune in tomorrow for more
and more
and more!
Because remember Tragedy doesn't happen just today
But everyday!
Tomorrow there will be another bombing and another thousand murders
Yet somehow you'll only be here today.
because every life is equal right?
right?
Nigdaw Jun 2019
I wrestle you out of the cupboard under the stairs
Every weekend
Scaring the ******* out of the cat
Who by now knows what is happening,
Perceived as a fight to the death
Filled with electric noise, until finally
I tame the monster and put it to bed
He elects to hide
In the kitchen, under the table.

We dance the waltz of cleanliness
Over carpet, lino, round litter trays
Up stairs and across bookcases
Just you and I, an odd couple
Locked in a battle against dirt and dust
The build up of bacteria (yuk!)
Cleaning away the footprint of a week
On the possessions of our life.

My wife doesn't know about us
You and me and our OCD
We share for an hour, or so, while she's out
Shopping, drinking coffee, with her mum
Ours is a secret affair
******* cat fur out of the crevices,
When I am done we part company
Hiding our passion behind closed doors
Until we meet again, next saturday

My love.
Nicole Bataclan May 2013
In my prattle
A smitten gal
In my silence
A heart flutter
In my chuckle
A nervous soul
In my tremble
A happy fool
In my gape
A riveting thought
In my jiggle
My interest shown

An example of old saying
Butterfly wings flapping
Hearing birds singing
All written on my skin
When persuaded to fail
A closer look into the realm
For beneath the *******
I had nothing to worry
Because you were still able
To see right through me.
Kevin Kennie Nov 2014
Down among the Zed men, lay a little lullaby,
Waiting to be sung; by the children of the sea.
And waiting in the billabong with a feather helmet on,
Was Willie of the three hearts, to see what he could see.

‘Well, lookie here’, said Willie, when he saw the little lullaby,
‘Who left you to lie around, unwanted and unsung?’
‘Bad boys, mad boys, they left me here to waste away,
Won’t you to take me across the sea, to shores far flung?’

So, Willie picked up lullaby and put him in his little sack.
‘I’d better take you home my love, it’s time for tea’.
‘Oh thank you” said the sweet refrain” I will be your friend,
For you have saved me from my fate, as well as you can see’.

So! Off they went with merry step, to find the way to *******’ home
And soon they heard the calling voice of Willie’s faithful mum.

‘Hello lad, where’ve you been now and who is that you’re carrying?’
You’ve both arrived in time for supper, jellied wasps and roses, and cream.
An hour later warm and fed, soft lullaby wished them many thanks

‘Think nothing of it’, said Willie’s mum, pouring another cup of steam
‘Come on said Willie, Let’s light a fire
Well lullaby, so happy now, living with his special friends,
Laid a spell upon them both and gave them the eternal dream.
This is how they dream,

Fairy cakes and shaggy dogs

        Washing lines and rainy days

                   Hammers, nails and rusty iron

                             Pretty dolls and mornings in May
Clouds that look like Ships of the line

Leviathan whales and teapot cosies

Skipping children and Waterfalls

Thunderstorms and sweet little posies


                                          Blues and reds and pinks and greens and

Black and red and black and blue and black and blue and black and blue...

Sweet dreams,

Remember,

                   Lullabies are forever.
Robin Carretti Jun 2018
All cased up as new as can be
Women are not the only one
With their cell phone's
Like men are the only
Wild Thang
How her heart sings
How it brings us
to move us
Or slows us down
Always he is mighty fit She's the case trim

The cell sun yellow chevy-rim
Cell baby racing the American flag
Way over our 100-speed limit
I have 90 days to claim
Another dream that cell

Go-Hollywood don't be a nag
Sunset Boulevard lights hit a snag
What claims do I have security
  heavy tears of his weight

Those chicks to be raised on
Animal farm jumped neigh
Mr. Mcdonald E- I- am E-book
I-O  U your cell phone please sigh

I summarize everything
That rings us like a childbirth
In a crib now men all hub teeth
Or the millionaire mansion their cribs
This isn't a game like ((Women lib))
Smart side sunny side
Benedict Arnold bread and eggs
Jet lag what conflict's

No luck not even Mike and Ike
My expensive cell phone took a hike
I met Chuck Titanic ship- cell-tip gift
of gab  talker those homewreckers
One decent sip Cyberbabe streaming
Her web-  Pirate-eyes stole away
Starbuck's became Lil Deb cell phone
falls in-between ripped car seat

The erogenous heat his fingers were
so caught in your middle ring tunes
Only the lonely the one song
Gave her the ******* just chill
Hot tune Billy Idol White
Paper embossed the wedding chaser
That day he was dreading every voice
sound loser
So mind blowing falling phones
silver tarnished

She was singing it's my party
I will cry if I want to
He picked himself up vanished
You would pry too if this
happened to you the devil
But it has been a long cell ride
With ((Johnny Angel)) how she loves
how he uses her phone destroys her
The Joker of I- ringtones

And she hoped one day he would
feel the same doing voice overs
But her cell phone caught
his fire flame
He was head cocked
Two jailbirds wherever we go
whatever we do we will always be locked
Together or even when we're through
The virus of germs mouth to mouth
Those higher-ups techs flying south
Memories dates and text intertwined in both

The ******* ****** talks like Goth
Addictions and love claims
She was ******* clammy
Those grassy moldy mummies
The negative side effect
So foreign in his pocket
Positive pants far from intellect
It slips out and falls

He is reacting from the
Blonde bombshells
The island some Liberty Bell
No man no God no lover
will be claimed in my
phone rich soil hand
Arrowsmith songs were locked
Dream on claim whats yours
Comic Xmen who claims
The crawling phone creatures
spiderman

She has spider veins features
Total recall but cannot recall
All my important number
where flushed down my
toilet jail cell bowl
And he is so mesmerized with
the Super Bowl
I had nothing left to talk too
Not even my cell phone
I felt alienated like all clones
All claims how we ring them and numbers like tumblers. But they say is your birthday but you don't even have a cell phone you feel locked in a cell and no one will come over even your X- lover. You felt destroyed like you were the ploy everything is irrelevant  like a babe cell phone toy
Martin Bailes Mar 2017
Just seeing that dumb red hat
gives me the Heebeejeebees,
the Holy Camoleys,
I get the *******,
the John B. Scrotes,
I feel Ben Carsoned,

as if I've been Rogered in my sleep
by Quasimodo & then been forced
to pleasure the Seven Dwarfs,

I have the shivers,
I plead repugnance,
I share the odium,

I experience that near frenzied disgust
as left by a cold slug traversing one's
naked arm in the dank moonlight,

when that oh so ridiculous red tractor
hat is worn by men who have
chauffeurs & bejeweled
golf carts,
& look like a fat cat's fantasy
of a fat cat,

to Make America Great Again for that matter
maybe you have to go as far back as Sitting Bull,
Red Cloud, the Shawnee, herds of bison,
counting coup, & eagle-feather headdresses,

Making America Great Again does not in any
way involve Leroy from the hills feeling better
about his race or Donald J. Trump coming
forth as some sort of Poor Man's Moses.

I hate that stupid hat!
The last time I has *** was in London.
Here is a list of thing I’d rather have been doing;

>Going to The Diner in Soho and eating a hotdog with bacon and sour cream (yes, that euphemism was entirely intentional)

>Touching all the pretty things in the massive, three-storey Paperchase

>Losing myself in the British Museum (hey, did you know that tentacle **** is older than electricity?)

>Lying in my back in Hyde Park and letting the rain fall on my face

>Avoiding living statues (they scare the **** out of me)

>Eating at that café on Barking Road

>Chasing pigeons in Trafalgar Square and resisting the urge to sit on one of the lions

>Dancing in front of a busker in Waterloo tube station

>Attending a Nick Cave gig and crying because he’s such a beautiful man

>Sitting in an art gallery and giggling at the tiny *******

>Wandering around Anne Summers, looking at things I can‘t afford but are very shiny none-the-less

>Giving tourists the right directions, because I’m not a complete ****

Anything but you
Surbhi Dadhich May 2018
Had you commemorated our eternal camaraderie
Would've I dewed my deserts and droughts
Though the thorns did tore apart
The bugs of contempt still I caught
Oh! Impostor of drenched oasis
Every second of every minute
Of every hour of every day
I burrow my doomed feets
I enlighten in scorching heat
And in my ever dewed deserts
Bear must I inefficient oasis
Of ******* of your water channels
....Just now ...You've embodied me as my desert's camel..
Surbhi Dadhich Apr 2018
Far in the barren fields
A farmer along with family lived
No source of childhood and income
Still he felt tables would somehow turn
When rain brought brutal repression
"Shouldn't we love our lives?" his family questioned
After a lethargic tornado of thoughts
He made his mind to board
A bus or a train
That could lead his way
To crowded towns and cities
They all were getting *******
And so started their game of mishappenings
A robber looted, a tenant bullied
Moreover he'd nothing to feed for his family
He rented out a tract
After nodding several pacts
With piles of loans and interests on head
His benefactor turned out to be a traitor
The fuel was he never had been the creditor
What would a debtor engulf from indebtedness?
The pressure on his mind bore deep as beetles
Sorrowful days and tearful nights
He attempted suicide..
Will Jan 2018
It seems we’re the only people lett in this world,
Everyone else left their life to unfurl.
They walk around no better than zombies,
caught up in the so-called “real world”.
They can’t even go diving with their *******
deep in some broad named Millie
from late high school;
But that was when rockabilly was actually a thing.
Now, us young people have a choice,
we can be the same or use our voice,
to speak up when nobody else will,
to rejoice
in the opportunities we have now.

Will you die like the rest?
Criticism is welcome.
Surbhi Dadhich Apr 2018
"Hey! I'm not an uptight
I caved in cowardly
I truly never mind
What people whisper behind
Believe you me"

"Oh poor! Is this why you burst into tears?
And still scorching and blazing
With red eyes and firm fists
Glaring glowing sweats and *******
You're an uptight
Believe you me" never mind"

Uh..That's none of your business
Why don't you just agree?
I never freak me out to people
Whom I'll never ever talk or meet

"Playing handball might cause serious injury
What I shouldn't..I should believe
You're honest and candid
Cowardly I'm caving in"

"Hey..wait a while..hello??
Oh..you're gone
Let me confess
To be honest
I'm uptight
I always seriously sternly mind
What people whisper behind
Believe you me"...
I was alone and frightened with only my large **** to keep me company. It was silly to believe that I, with these large ****, could  run out of milk. It was cow juice that I was after and I meant to get it whatever the cost; no matter how many cows I distressed; no matter the number of unholy transgressions that I'd have to incur against the providentially-sacred laws of Universal order.
Akin to significance my eldest sister
felt toward her “*******” –
until she became a tweener
(totally tubular fuzzy bendable contrivances
analogous to an outsize pipecleaner)
my Mattie Mattel Doll meant the world
(circa mid 1960's), the whirled wide
webbed world on the horizon
with promise of much greener
virtual Oculus pastures once found
amongst Carib ******
indigenous tribes.

Any child with creative artistic bents
(minus this scribe, whose innate abilities cents
less limited me drawing stick figures, more so dense
macabre satisfactorily applying
   beard or mustache ala events
magic marker to pictured printed (faces forged into fences
of famous people popular
   within culture club), both gents
or gals, whose retouched photographs
   beggared ****** pents
sieve hair loom of men and women,
   while simultaneously rents
sing preoccupied to access
   excel lent glue, devoid of common sense
household padding material,
   and short scraps from circus tents
of yarn for do whit your self based artisans
   into trash bin of history project wents.

Even than orange ranked as the new black.

This abhor ridge gin null snippets
   red + yellow colored strands
atop kepi twas pseudo hair,
   sans manufactured eunuchs adorned head lands
with avast linkedin fingerhut dishabille curls),
    could easily construct grandstands
a similar facsimile re: globular molded,
   incorporated, glommed, errands
contrived head (vis a vis Plaster of Paris
   overcovering NON GMO
   gluten free partially hydrogenated brands
inflated balloon) to affect trademark

     globular fuzzy noggin dry as Awklands.

The simple plain plaything included
   a fitbit lifesaver size plastic ring.

Said small circular loop perfect
   to get jammed below first knuckle
of index finger affixed to a short string  
   (when pulled to extent tub buckle
of tether) activated moonfaced fixed bugeyed
   blank stare to utter garbled syllables  
  asper one who did suckle.

Despite the drabness, homliness,
   laquered pated trapped
xyst Yarmulke cheap flatness,
   I loved ragged slapped
around, and still iconic schlepped treasure
   (uber voiceless with rapt
zealous application bridging elementary
   functioning gizmo), initiating mapped
jabbering lock lipped prattling. Sometimes
   well worn action hero lapped
exhilaration, (got tossed in the air, booted
   as football, succor silently accepted flapped
sear sucker punches from robed buck
   after favorite fictitious "brother" chapped
accompanied my scrawny body at bath time) to adapt.

None the less, this adored billed idol kept me secure, especially
on rare occasions that found this contemplative, dutiful, fun
loving kid under the weather, or hospitalized for minor adenoids removal.

Oh yes, this non gendered plaything (non descript featureless
sewn seems showed zero differentiation, no matter to tell this
August, cherished, fondled kiddie piece de resistance lacked ****** identity.

Absent reproductive organs (eh, nada so significant omission)
cuz, this seemingly resistant quirky plaything, who unfairly re
ceived punishing physical indiscriminate treatment), yet still
connection omnipotent bond existed as if goofy guise happened
to be extended part of mine kempf.

Upon reflection, asper this childhood memento (nary a clue
what triggered remembrance of things past yesterday comprised
true value), an aha moment awoke to attempt to cap cha vague
essence about pretend friend designed in 1955, and based on a conceptby Mattel co-founder Elliot Handler. The character “Matty” derived from the name Mattel.

The nom de plume a concatenation of sortsderived after founders,
Harold Mattson and Elliot Handler. A brainstorm session
yielded concurrence viz the hybrid name of Matt + El (short for Elliot).
Surbhi Dadhich Dec 2017
My progenitor of curiousity
My prophecy of endured awakening
Gives me serious *******
Of doubts and clearings
Oh! I wish I'd break your call
Your advice yells my mind
Driving the bitter truths with your soul
Those attacks would be reality
Those advice would be precautions
Sacrificing the very reputed dignity
To your free and fair auction
I must confess
With forgiveness and apologies
My progenitor of deep memories
My prophecy of soul awakening
Let me geer up with your summoning...
Dada Olowo Eyo May 2018
Many moons of dust and drought,
Banished by refreshing rushes,
Cool cataracts cascading, crashing,
Monsoon melodies waking winged *******.
(alternately titled: idolizing childhood's end
today April 25th, 2021
generates elusive warm treasured memories).

Akin to significance my eldest sister
felt toward her “*******” –
(totally tubular fuzzy bendable contrivances
analogous to an outsize pipe cleaner)
until she became a tweener
my Matty Mattel Doll (circa mid 1960's)
meant the webbed wide world  
with promise of much greener pastures
on the Apollo space age horizon
where virtual Oculus virtual reality dwelt
amongst Carib ****** indigenous tribes.

No matter yours truly then
fast approaching his decade number seven  
of twentieth century tantalizing
figurative future promises held sway
(namely technologically
Luddite intimations spawned),
I zealously, fervently,
and desperately clung
to battered Matty Mattel doll.

Any child with creative artistic bents
(including this scribe),
whose innate sensibilities and cents
severely limited me drawing
stick figures, more so dense
macabre satisfactorily applying
beard or mustache as stylish elements
applying magic marker to picture printed
faces forged into fences
of famous people popular
within culture club, both gents
or gals, whose retouched photographs
beggared ****** pents
sieve looming hair of men and women,
while simultaneously rents
sing preoccupied to access
excel lent glue, which caricatured outlook
devoid of common sense
I held said goofy looking doll
appeared contrived of household padding material,
and short scraps from circus tents
of yarn for do whit yourself based artisans
into trash bin of history project went.

Even than orange ranked as the new black
charming plaything sophistication did lack
plus batteries not required
to hear voice activated track.

This (think) abhor ridge gin null snippets
red + yellow colored strands
atop kepi twas pseudo hair,
sans manufactured eunuchs
adorned head lands
with avast capita lone linkedin
fingerhut dishabille curls,
could easily construct trolling grandstands
a similar facsimile re: globular molded,
incorporated, glommed,
fragile Ostrich egg shape
contrived head (vis a vis Plaster of Paris
overcovering NON GMO gluten free
partially hydrogenated brands
inflated balloon) to affect trademark
globular fuzzy noggin dry as Acklands.

The simple plain plaything included
a fitbit lifesaver size plastic ring
said small circular loop perfect “O”pening
to get jammed below first knuckle the King
Kong of index finger affixed to a short string
(when pulled to extent tub buckle did bring
taut tether) activated
moon face fixed bug eyed ping
pong blank stare to utter garbled syllables
asper one who nipped viz suckle something.

Despite the drabness, homeliness,
lacquered painted trapped
xyst Yarmulke cheap flatness,
I loved ragged slapped
around, and still iconic schlepped treasure
(uber voiceless with rapt
zealous application bridging elementary
functioning gizmo), initiating mapped
jabbering lock lipped absolute zero prattling.

Sometimes well worn action hero lapped
exhilaration, (got tossed in the air, booted
as football, succor silently accepted flapped
sear sucker punches from robed buck
after favorite fictitious "brother" chapped
accompanied my scrawny body
at bath time) to adapt.

Nonetheless, this adored
billed idol kept me secure,
especially on rare occasions
that found this contemplative lad, a lore
ring dutiful, fun loving kid
under the weather, or hospitalized for
minor adenoids removal,
which entailed post surgical recovery
swallowing quite a chore.

Oh yes, this non gendered plaything
nondescript featureless
sewn seams showed zero differentiation,
no matter to tell this August, cherished, fondled
kiddie piece de resistance lacked ****** identity.

Absent reproductive organs
(eh, nada so significant omission)
cuz, this seemingly resistant
quirky plaything, who unfairly re
ceived punishing physical
indiscriminate treatment, yet still
connection omnipotent bond existed
as if goofy guise happened
to be extended part of mine kempf.

Upon reflection, asper
childhood memento (nary a clue
what triggered remembrance
of things past yesterday comprised
true value), an aha moment awoke
to attempt to cap cha vague
essence about pretend friend designed in 1955,
and based on a concept by Mattel co-founder
Elliot Handler.

The character “Matty”
derived from the name Mattel.

The nom de plume a concatenation of sorts
derived after founders,
Harold Mattson and Elliot Handler.

A brainstorm session
yielded concurrence viz the hybrid name
of Matt + El (short for Elliot).
Yenson May 2022
Much ado about nothing
scream Republicanism Revolution and Solidarity
when in truth your hate
lurks in the shortcomings that peeks on your groins
from red mists you rage
odious bullies needing a scapegoat to abate tiny Tims
its obvious the gifted
who measures up in mind body and soul is nemesis
to thimble small men
and you wonder why its all about socially castrating
an innocent gifted man





SHAFTED BY FRENCH British men’s ******* are only the 66th biggest in the world, study finds – & even French fared better

LACKING lads came up short in a study of international todger sizes — landing the UK in 66th place.

Their average of 5.17in put us well down the pecker order.

Even French fellas fared better — inching to 11th place with 6.2in.

Men in Ecuador claimed to have the biggest trousersnakes, at an average of 6.93in, ahead of Cameroon (6.56in) and  Bolivia (6.5in).

Germany came just above it — 39th on 5.72in and Argentina 30th on 5.86in.

US men polled 59th on 5.35in with Ireland in 70th on 5.03in and Aussies  43rd on 5.69in.

Pharmacist Navin Khosla said: “Most men have wondered at some time or other if their ***** is big enough. Size can have a massive impact on confidence and self- image.”

Researchers also found there were almost half a million online searches for ***** size by UK men in the last year.

— The End —