"wobblin" poems
PLEASE NOTE: DIALOGUE MUST BE READ IN A BRITISH ACCENT.
and she, in dismay, said to him
"Benjamin, just who do you think you are sitting there with your **** out like that?!"
Annabella knew right away that what said wasn't valid.
"aww come on Beli, you know what a cheater smells like now dont you?"
"thats enough! go straight to your bedroom!"
"Im sorry bub, but we are still in this chariot, got a few more streets and alleys to be wobblin on."
"why dont you just **** my **** you french kissin mugger. I never want to see the northern lights with you."
"go on then ya **** off with your head"
Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 6:04 PM UTC
Chime, clatter, clank, ring,
Clink, dream, shuffle, rub
What’s that you say?
Where’s that racket coming from?
Why, it’s the wings on my heart, a flappin’ together
Having one hell of a party
Watchin’ all the pretty people go by.
Red and blue figures running strait out of the aorta
With flashing clappers in their hands.
What racket? It’s a celebration!
Watch the jumpers swirl,
The tumblers whirl,
My own arms flap as I want to hurl
Up all my faults to make room for more joy
To allow my body the ability to express,
That which it cannot.
What is a skeleton?
Just take it away! And my limbs can join the heart runners
A wobblin’ and bendin’ and flappin’ each way
Kiss the day, kiss, kiss the day
What are my innards?
Just take em’ right out!
I’ll have more room
For the smiles of children,
Golding leaves,
And black ambition.
I’ll be able to **** in the morning air with all my being
And fill the cavity where my intestines once were
With real soul soup—savory sweet
And people say there’s no heaven?
This I’ll never believe.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 2:03 PM UTC