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"wize" poems
Preponderant enchantments written With dawns bereft tears Of a hircine mendicant Upon a necromantic acorn Thirsting times wild-wize monition During a week of sundays Atide sins wake awash Clarities purification. Natures immure debt drawing Maledictions masterpiece, Leys bane web mercifully mirroring Obsidian sibilant eyes Peccably prenouncing the portent Languid whisper inquisitorially; Heavens augumented vestments Distinguishable amid eternities Pensive shade as thuriferous Hallowed tombs loom black As ink, somewhere that was Thought to be void far between The dark hour anchoring the Fractured talisman of loves memoirs. ELEETE J MUIR.
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Jan 13, 2012
Jan 13, 2012 at 11:49 AM UTC
The ghosts of chance
a woman stood with silver hair laugh lines had long set in a kind smile she gives to me a lifelong tail she spins of mr right and mr wrong of love and of deceit of all the wemen excluding her her man swept off their feet she tells me of her children and the hard times that they shared the laughter thats between them and the burdens that they bear she reminisced of good old times a smile apon her face she told me not a single momment ever i should waste she told me that its crazy how quickly time flies how so often if she could shed trade time for being wize she told me id be ok in this world of mine if i could only find someone to share it by my side i told her i had found the one she didnt seem surprised for at 18 she too was to be a bride so were alike in many ways young love was hers and mine im glad to let her relive this at least one more time
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Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
Young love
Within the fires are the spirits The gong upon our anvil As such arms can only be made in Heaven. Of various persons each known to his part Distinct are the Poet and the Dreamer And so I was Gods ape, Piety so chaste I hold it half a sin Entering the cold broken world Thus Adam lamented to himself aloud. "No coward soul is mine What will come at last too soon For honour bit-wize travels Unwinking on this fair ship 'Life'". But there was resistance involved The swift blazing flag of regiment As bare as a birds tail To make a clean breast The iron entered my soul. I pray you The earthly bribble-brabble A veil for the glory of Angels Lest evil tidings to utter To turn and face them And see ones self Not to be lost but by the makers hand. ELEETE J MUIR
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Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 12:12 AM UTC
Edens' Horcrux.
Call me ******* to your mother because I cuh-cuh-couldn't feel the trembling heat reaking havok on the in thigh stubble. Ow! **** sorry stub my toe. I'm moving slow enough to double dutch with a couple couple cookie crisp. Ishy on the in dispute. Grarly upon the laudry booth smoochie smooching on farting fairies flarping from the ex-haust. Sorry my brain feels soft ffrom the rock salt. Hoochie snoochie snooting snorks slimey nap-cloth. Froze from the several palms second had palsy freezing in the eager eggnog. Ice over sire's searing sultry silken sick souly sullen franklin flame Bob. Billy will wally dilly Dally caught a fifty fatty rattle ****** daddy daddy daddy daddy, Fat Father igloos freak me father freak me father freak me father Im chuching my maugwa. Ma saws my mucho munched muddy crusty killer toes rain, ***** Are you hearing me gravel up your ****** hairs hurting from the rusty ****** clamps. I'm krusty crab freaking funk got me wondering why? okay wize guy wicked wonder wall watch my quest for questioning Ghostface Killah. I'm Slaid Cosby I ****** your daugher younger than the fury from you first tooth. I wish you spat my drizzle from the furry foster the kids frontporch pistol grip. Hop scotch?
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Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 4:41 PM UTC
Getting Bored?
gdzie wasze serca? na hawaiiach? co, kurwa, serdeczne mi: szkoda że cie tu nie było na pocztuwce? o kurwa... hlups! a gdzie wasze oczy?                kurwa mać,                                  na antarktydzie? ty na wize-wize w głąb     kapusty, czy w prost:                               na czele marszem                        w krąg znawy: cebula, na setki pokrojona, a potem w otchłan                  tluszczu... smażona...                 taka to jebana krewetka;   you have to the count of three to create the missing graphemes                         that already exist in your tongue: cz, sz, rz... diacritical marks will not save cz (č), or sz with (š), you already know the latter rz (ż)... for fuck's sake...          craft some decent graphemes for "twin"-consonants. *w portki rżnąć... ******** their pants.* come on! create at least one original grapheme, akin to what the germans did with eszett...                 ß        æ             œ                 ?                     let's have a mummy!
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May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 7:47 PM UTC
ten i owaki, gamoń (temat: angol)