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WARNER BAXTER Jul 2015
livin' is a crime
the dollar's worth a dime
local government
landlord wants the rent
the I. R. S.
says they get the rest


(bridge)
wooo, ooo, oo rat race, Oooooo ooo it's a rat race

working nine to five
just to stay alive
stabbin' in the back
catchin' all the flack
interest rates and loans
keepin' up with Jones


(chorus)
wooo. ooo, oo rat race, Oooooo ooo it's a rat race
are you a member of the rat race
keepin' with the fast pace
wooo, ooo, oo rat race


the dollar's worth a dime
livin' is a crime
just to stay alive
workin' nine to five
landlord wants the rent
D.C. government
guess who gets the rest
the I. R. S.


(chorus)
wooo, ooo, oo rat race, Oooooo ooo it's a rat race
are you a member of the rat race
keepin' with the fast pace
wooo, ooo, oo rat race

wooo. ooo, oo rat race, Oooooo ooo it's a rat race
are you a member of the rat race
keepin' with the fast pace
wooo, ooo, oo rat race
wooo. ooo, oo rat race
Oooooo ooo it's a rat race
rat race
rat race
Oooooo ooo it's a rat race*



written by
Warner Baxter
One Knight Stand Productions
all rights reserved
WARNER BAXTER Jan 2014
~
LIVIN' IS A CRIME
THE DOLLAR'S WORTH A DIME
LOCAL GOVERNMENT
LANDLORD WANTS THE RENT
THE    I. R. S.
SAYS THEY GET THE REST



IT'S A RAT RACE
ARE YOU A MEMBER OF THE RAT RACE
KEEPIN' WITH THE FAST PACE
WOOO,   OOO,   OOOO,   OO,  RAT RACE



WORKIN' NINE TO FIVE
JUST TO STAY ALIVE
STABBIN' IN THE BACK
CATCHIN' ALL THE FLACK
INTEREST RATES AND LOANS
KEEPIN' UP WITH JONES



IT'S A RAT RACE
ARE YOU A MEMBER OF THE RAT RACE
KEEPIN' WITH THE FAST PACE
WOOO,    OOO,   OOOO,  OO,   RAT RACE


REPEAT CHORUS

WOOO,   OOO,  OOOO,  OO,  RAT RACE

RAT RACE   WOOO,  OOO,  RAT RACE

RAT RACE
RAT RACE




written by
Warner Baxter
One Knight Stand Productions
Under A Tangerine Sky Entertainment
Phoenix Arizona 2010
all rights reserved
A PLAY


BY



ALEXANDER   K   OPICHO









THE CASTE
1. Chenje – Old man, father of Namugugu
2. Namugugu – Son of Chenje
3. Nanyuli – daughter of Lusaaka
4. Lusaaka – Old man, father of Nanyuli
5. Kulecho – wife of Lusaaka
6. Kuloba – wife of Chenje
7. Paulina – Old woman, neighbour to Chenje.
8. Child I, II and III – Nanyuli’s children
9. Policeman I, II and III
10. Mourners
11. Wangwe – a widowed village pastor

















ACTING HISTORY
This play was acted two times, on 25th and 26th December 2004 at Bokoli Roman Catholic Church, in Bokoli sub- location of Bungoma County in the western province of Kenya. The persons who acted and their respective roles are as below;

Wenani Kilong –stage director
Alexander k Opicho – Namugugu
Judith Sipapali Mutivoko- Nanyuli
Saul Sampaza Mazika Khayongo- Wangwe
Paul Lenin Maondo- Lusaaka
Peter Wajilontelela-  Chenje
Agnes Injila -  Kulecho
Beverline Kilobi- Paulina
Milka Molola Kitayi- Kuloba
Then mourners, children and police men changed roles often. This play was successfully stage performed and stunned the community audience to the helm.













PLOT
Language use in this play is not based on Standard English grammar, but is flexed to mirror social behaviour and actual life as well as assumptions of the people of Bokoli village in Bungoma district now Bungoma County in Western province of Kenya.

























ACT ONE
Scene One

This scene is set in Bokoli village of Western Kenya. In Chenje’s peasant hut, the mood is sombre. Chenje is busy thrashing lice from his old long trouser Kuloba, sitting on a short stool looking on.

Chenje: (thrashing a louse) these things are stubborn! The lice. You **** all of them today, and then tomorrow they are all-over. I hate them.
Kuloba: (sending out a cloud of smoke through her tobacco laden pipe). Nowadays I am tired. I have left them to do to me whatever they want (coughs) I killed them they were all over in my skirt.
Chenje: (looking straight at Kuloba) Do you know that they are significant?
Kuloba: What do they signify?
Chenje: Death
Kuloba: Now, who will die in this home? I have only one son. Let them stop their menace.
Chenje: I remember in 1968, two months that preceded my father’s death, they were all over. The lice were in every of my piece of clothes. Even the hat, handkerchief. I tell you what not!
Kuloba: (nodding), Yaa! I remember it very well my mzee, I had been married for about two years by then.
Chenje: Was it two years?
Kuloba: (assuringly) yes, (spots a cockroach on the floor goes at it and crushes it with her finger, then coughs with heavy sound) we had stayed together in a marriage for two years. That was when people had began back-biting me that I was barren. We did not have a child. We even also had the jiggers. I can still remember.
Chenje: Exactly (crashes a louse with his finger) we also had jiggers on our feet.
Kuloba: The jiggers are very troublesome. Even more than the lice and weevils.  
Chenje: But, the lice and jiggers, whenever they infest one’s home, they usually signify impending death of a family member.
Kuloba: Let them fail in Christ’s name. Because no one is ripe for death in this home. I have lost my five children. I only have one child. My son Namugugu – death let it fail. My son has to grow and have a family also like children of other people in this village. Let whoever that is practicing evil machinations against my family, my only child fail.
Chenje: (putting on the long-trouser from which he had been crushing lice) let others remain; I will **** them another time.
Kuloba: You will never finish them (giggles)
Chenje: You have reminded me, where is Namugugu today? I have not seen him.
Kuloba: He was here some while ago.
Chenje: (spitting out through an open window) He has become of an age. He is supposed to get married so that he can bear grand children for me. Had I the grand children they could even assist me to **** lice from my clothes. (Enters Namugugu) Come in boy, I want to talk to you.
Kuloba: (jokingly) you better give someone food, or anything to fill the stomach before you engages him in a talk.
Namugugu: (looks, at both Chenje and Kuloba, searchingly then goes for a chair next to him)
Mama! I am very hungry if you talk of feeding me, I really get thrilled (sits at a fold-chair, it breaks sending him down in a sprawl).
Kuloba: (exclaims) wooo! Sorry my son. This chair wants to **** (helps him up)
Namugugu: (waving his bleeding hand as he gets up) it has injured my hand. Too bad!
Chenje: (looking on) Sorry! Dress your finger with a piece of old clothes, to stop that blood oozing out.
Namugugu: (writhing in pain) No it was not a deep cut. It will soon stop bleeding even without a piece of rag.
Kuloba: (to Namugugu) let it be so. (Stands) let me go to my sweet potato field. There are some vivies, I have not harvested, I can get there some roots for our lunch (exits)
Chenje: (to Namugugu) my son even if you have injured your finger, but that will not prevent me from telling you what I am supposed to.
Namugugu: (with attention) yes.
Chenje: (pointing) sit to this other chair, it is safer than that one of yours.
Namugugu: (changing the chair) Thank you.
Chenje: You are now a big person. You are no longer an infant. I want you to come up with your own home. Look for a girl to marry. Don’t wait to grow more than here. The two years you have been in Nairobi, were really wasted. You could have been married, may you would now be having my two grand sons as per today.
Namugugu: Father I don’t refuse. But how can I marry and start up a family in a situation of extreme poverty? Do you want me to start a family with even nothing to eat?
Chenje: My son, you will be safer when you are a married beggar than a wife- less rich-man. No one is more exposed as a man without a wife.
Namugugu: (looking down) father it is true but not realistic.
Chenje: How?
Namugugu: All women tend to flock after a rich man.
Chenje: (laughs) my son, may be you don’t know. Let me tell you. One time you will remember, maybe I will be already dead by then. Look here, all riches flock after married men, all powers of darkness flock after married men and even all poverty flock after married. So, it is just a matter of living your life.
(Curtains)
SCENE TWO

Around Chenje’s hut, Kuloba and Namugugu are inside the hut; Chenje is out under the eaves. He is dropping at them.
Namugugu: Mama! Papa wants to drive wind of sadness permanently into my sail of life. He is always pressurizing me to get married at such a time when I totally have nothing. No food, no house no everything. Mama let me actually ask you; is it possible to get married in such a situation?
Kuloba: (Looking out if there is any one, but did not spot the eaves-dropping Chenje).
Forget. Marriage is not a Whiff of aroma. My son, try marriage in poverty and you will see.
Namugugu: (Emotionally) Now, if Papa knows that I will not have a happy married life, in such a situation, where I don’t have anything to support myself; then why is he singing for my marriage?
Kuloba: (gesticulating) He wants to mess you up the way he messed me up. He married me into his poverty. I have wasted away a whole of my life in his poverty. I regret. You! (Pointing) my son, never make a mistake of neither repeating nor replicating poverty of this home into your future through blind marriage.
Namugugu: (Approvingly) yes Mama, I get you.

Kuloba: (Assertively) moreover, you are the only offspring of my womb             (touching her stomach) I have never eaten anything from you. You have never bought me anything even a headscarf alone. Now, if you start with a wife will I ever benefit anything from you?
Namugugu: (looking agog) indeed Mama.
Kuloba: (commandingly) don’t marry! Women are very many. You can marry at any age, any time or even any place. But it is very good to remember child-price paid by your mother in bringing you up. As a man my son, you have to put it before all other things in your life.
Namugugu: (in an affirmative feat) yes Mama.
Kuloba: It is not easy to bring up a child up to an age when in poverty. As a mother you really suffer. I’ve suffered indeed to bring you up. Your father has never been able to put food on the table. It has been my burden through out. So my son, pleased before you go for women remember that!
Namugugu: Yes Mama, I will.
(Enters Chenje)
Chenje: (to Kuloba) you old wizard headed woman! Why do you want to put    my home to a full stop?
Kuloba: (shy) why? You mean you were not away? (Goes out behaving shyly)

Chenje: (in anger to Namugugu) you must become a man! Why do you give your ears to such toxic conversations? Your mother is wrong. Whatever she has told you today is pure lies. It is her laziness that made her poor. She is very wrong to festoon me in any blame…. I want you to think excellently as a man now. Avoid her tricky influence and get married. I have told you finally and I will never repeat telling you again.

Namugugu: (in a feat of shyness) But Papa, you are just exploding for no good reason, Mama has told me nothing bad……………………
Chenje: (Awfully) shut up! You old ox. Remove your ears from poisonous mouths of old women!
(Enters Nanyuli with an old green paper bag in her hand. Its contents were bulging).
Nanyuli: (knocking) Hodii! Hodii!
Chenje: (calmly) come in my daughter! Come in.
Nanyuli: (entering) thank you.
Chenje: (to Namugugu) give the chair to our visitor.
Namugugu: (shyly, paving Nanyuli to sit) Karibu, have a sit please.
Nanyuli: (swinging girlishly) I will not sit me I am in a hurry.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) just sit for a little moment my daughter. Kindly sit.
Nanyuli: (sitting, putting a paper-bag on her laps) where is the grandmother who is usually in this house?
Chenje: Who?
Nanyuli: Kuloba, the old grandmother.
Namugugu: She has just briefly gone out.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) she has gone to the potato field and Cassava field to look for some roots for our lunch.
Nanyuli: Hmm. She will get.
Chenje: Yes, it is also our prayer. Because we’re very hungry.
Nanyuli: I am sure she will get.
Chenje: (to Nanyuli) excuse me my daughter; tell me who your father is?
Nanyuli: (shyly) you mean you don’t know me? And me I know you.
Chenje: Yes I don’t know you. Also my eyes have grown old, unless you remind
me, I may not easily know you.
Nanyuli: I am Lusaaka’s daughter
Chenje: Eh! Which Lusaka? The one with a brown wife? I don’t know… her name is Kulecho?
Nanyuli: Yes
Chenje: That brown old-mother is your mother?
Nanyuli: Yes, she is my mother. I am her first – born.
Chenje: Ooh! This is good (goes forward to greet her) shake my fore-limb my
daughter.

Nanyuli: (shaking Chenje’s hand) Thank you.
Chenje: I don’t know if your father has ever told you. I was circumcised the same year with your grand-gather. In fact we were cut by the same knife. I mean we shared the same circumciser.
Nanyuli: No, he has not yet. You know he is always at school. He never stays at home.
Chenje: That is true. I know him, he teaches at our mission primary school at Bokoli market.
Nanyuli: Yes.
Chenje: What is your name my daughter?
Nanyuli: My name is Loisy Nanyuli Lusaaka.
Chenje: Very good. They are pretty names. Loisy is a Catholic baptismal name, Nanyuli is our Bukusu tribal name meaning wife of an iron-smith and Lusaaka is your father’s name.
Nanyuli: (laughs) But I am not a Catholic. We used to go to Catholic Church upto last year December. But we are now born again, saved children of God. Fellowshipping with the Church of Holy Mountain of Jesus christ. It is at Bokoli market.
Chenje: Good, my daughter, in fact when I will happen to meet with your father, or even your mother the brown lady, I will comment them for having brought you up under the arm of God.
Nanyuli: Thank you; or even you can as well come to our home one day.
Chenje: (laughs) actually, I will come.
Nanyuli: Now, I want to go
Chenje: But you have not stayed for long. Let us talk a little more my daughter.
Nanyuli: No, I will not. I had just brought some tea leaves for Kuloba the old grandmother.
Chenje: Ooh! Who gave you the tea leaves?
Nanyuli: I do hawk tea leaves door to door. I met her last time and she requested me to bring her some. So I want to give them to you (pointing at Namugugu) so that you can give them to her when she comes.
Namugugu: No problem. I will.
Nanyuli: (takes out a tumbler from the paper bag, fills the tumbler twice, pours the tea leaves  into an old piece of  newspaper, folds and gives  it to Namugugu) you will give them to grandmother, Kuloba.
Namugugu: (taking) thank you.
Chenje: My daughter, how much is a tumbler full of tea leaves, I mean when it is full?
Nanyuli: Ten shillings of Kenya
Chenje: My daughter, your price is good. Not like others.
Nanyuli: Thank you.
Namugugu: (To Nanyuli) What about money, she gave you already?
Nanyuli: No, but tell her that any day I may come for it.
Namugugu: Ok, I will not forget to tell her
Nanyuli: I am thankful. Let me go, we shall meet another day.
Chenje: Yes my daughter, pass my regards to your father.
Nanyuli: Yes I will (goes out)
Chenje: (Biting his finger) I wish I was a boy. Such a good woman would never slip through my fingers.
Chenje: But father she is already a tea leaves vendor!
(CURTAINS)


SCENE THREE
Nanyuli and Kulecho in a common room Nanyuli and Kulecho are standing at the table, Nanyuli is often suspecting a blow from Kulecho, counting coins from sale of tea leaves; Lusaaka is sited at couch taking a coffee from a ceramic red kettle.


Kulecho: (to Nanyuli) these monies are not balancing with your stock. It is like you have sold more tea leaves but you have less money. This is only seventy five shillings. When it is supposed to be one hundred and fifty. Because you sold fifteen tumblers you are only left with five tumblers.
Nanyuli: (Fidgeting) this is the whole money I have, everything I collected from sales is here.
Kulecho: (heatedly) be serious, you stupid woman! How can you sell everything and am not seeing any money?
Nanyuli: Mama, this is the whole money I have, I have not taken your money anywhere.
Kulecho: You have not taken the money anywhere! Then where is it? Do you know that I am going to slap you!
Nanyuli: (shaking) forgive me Mama
Kulecho: Then speak the truth before you are forgiven. Where is the money you collected from tea leaves sales?
Nanyuli: (in a feat of shyness) some I bought a short trouser for my child.
Kulecho: (very violent) after whose permission? You old cow, after whose permission (slaps Nanyuli with her whole mighty) Talk out!
Nanyuli: (Sobbingly) forgive me mother, I thought you would understand. That is why I bought a trouser for my son with your money!
Lusaaka: (shouting a cup of coffee in his hand, standing charged) teach her a lesson, slap her again!
Kulecho (slaps, Nanyuli continuously, some times ******* her cheeks, as Nanyuli wails) Give me my money! Give me my money! Give me my money! Give me my money! You lousy, irresponsible Con-woman (clicks)
Lusaaka: Are you tired, kick the *** out of that woman (inveighs a slap towards Nanyuli) I can slap you!
Nanyuli: (kneeling, bowedly, carrying up her hands) forgive me father, I will never repeat that mistake again (sobs)
Lusaaka: An in-corrigible, ****!
Kulecho: (to Nanyuli) You! Useless heap of human flesh. I very much regret to have sired a sell-out of your type. It is very painful for you to be a first offspring of my womb.
I curse my womb because of you. You have ever betrayed me. I took you to school you were never thankful, instead you became pregnant. You were fertilized in the bush by peasant boys.
You have given birth to three childlings, from three different fathers! You do it in my home. What a shame! Your father is a teacher, how have you made him a laughing stock among his colleagues, teachers? I have become sympathetic to you by putting you into business. I have given you tea leaves to sell. A very noble occupation for a wretch like you. You only go out sell tea leaves and put the money in your wolfish stomach. Nanyuli! Why do you always act like this?
Nanyuli: (sobbing) Forgive me mother. Some tea leaves I sold on credit. I will come with the money today?
Kulecho: You sold on credit?
Nanyuli: Yes
Kul
this is a manuscript of a play, please guys help me get any publisher who can do publishing of this play
i  will appreciate. thanks
5/6/00 3:49 PM
I am transcribing this mornings’ writings.
It is 11 a.m. I have been naked all day.  So many windows to look through, both physically and in the mind.  
I have been near silent the whole time I have been in this house.  I find it so strangely familiar here.  It fits; it all fits in the mysterious cosmic way I have yet to discover.
*I am a person who visits ‘his house when he is on trips.  And here I find myself on a trip or two indeedy.  The house, thought 1, I love his style.
It makes me think of what I want for myself.  There is fantasy and reality to indulge in here.
Reality is the space and freedom.  Space for all things special and ordinary.  I miss space and order.  He has all the thought provoking areas of interest of a real home.  The colors are rich, deep blue, burgundy, and browns, all used in an artful mix of styles.  Oddly pondering here because I would choose many of the same pieces myself.  Every room has space for dancing, which I have done naked a few times here now.
Everyone else is watching big screen movies.  I am in the other living room on a big brown leather couch; still naked, touching all of ‘his things with my body.  
I awoke this morning to the sound of the modem.  I swear it is the perfect alarm clock for me!  You know I get excited every time I here the perfect connection.  
My dreams were vivid awake and asleep because ‘he is on a trip and I am sleeping naked in the master bedroom.  There is the possibility he could have come home at anytime.  I had spent 6 hours already that night naked in his home without his knowledge.  Everyone is used to me being naked when we come stay here.  I don’t want to put clothes on here, in this house.
It is not the people around seeing me naked in the yard sunbathing, or running around the big house with big windows which have no coverings btw.
It is the space and atmosphere that draws out my facets.  This space sparks my exhibitionist in a feisty way. * All the ***** massages for me to relax and enjoy, just being papered to highs. *  
The white leather couch and a 60-inch screen for movies- others are sitting in the chairs and on the floor.
One joins me on the sofa.  Everyone is watching a movie, so am I when my eyes are open.  I am on the couch on my stomach, with a pillow under my hips and my head.  My legs spread wide, there I am being touched inside and out constantly.  I moan, open my eyes and see the many eyes on me and the ’s.  I close my eyes and smile and say “watch the movie you guys geez”, giggle, wiggle and moan again.  The surround sound covers some of my whimpers.  
As soon as the movie was over I walked to the master bedroom and turned on the light.  HIS clothes, files, and suitcases were still on the bed.  WoW he really could come home.  I wanted that bed!
-We- cleared the bed and I jumped in the middle and put ‘his pillow under my ***.  I don’t know ‘him, but I love his style and I wanted to *** on his bed and pillows.  The fact that I come here and stay naked all over his things excites me, and he has no idea.  And yes, I came all over the master bed, we ****** madly!  I know the others heard my bells and chains clinking at a feverish pace.  I listened to the sounds ‘his bed made.  I fully enjoyed his headboard, grabbing his oak poles, feeling each one up and down, as I was getting closer to coming.  Ahhh my hand finds a broken bar, I think how it must have been broken by ‘him doing what I was at that moment.  That moment I came.
My mind was so in this “space”, that after we were spent I jumped up and ran to the pool.  Everyone else was still wake and followed me outside.  Skinny-dipping after hours of pleasure is the best recovery!  Wooo Hooo!  
I was the only one naked – still, I didn’t mind and neither did anyone else.  They were announcing to me when the pool jets came on, giggles, they wanted me sitting on them.  A wind picked up and I went inside, everyone followed me in.  
We all watched Eyes Wide Shut, and then everyone went to his or her separate rooms.  
I took ‘his room, I love the big space, the many doors and windows all left open, so nice and free.  I stood beside ‘his bed and slowly dropped my chains and bells beside his slippers on the floor.  I sprawled about on his sheet and fell into a light sleep.
I was dreaming that there was a camera taking pictures of me, while I was replaying in my dream the real conversation I had with ‘him the night before.  He was asleep on the phone, I called and he never fully woke up to give my message to his roommate.  I listened to him breath, and I spoke quietly to him, softly and sweetly, he spoke back a few times and then I hung up.  But in the dream I was having it was *******, and I was talking in my sleep, in ‘his bed.  What a twist of cosmic ways.  With all the dreams: of the snap shots and the discovery of me in his bed, ****, alone and moaning **** me.   In my dream I was saying it, and I know the other people in the other rooms could hear me speaking my mind in my sleep.  The rooms are close by indeed.
Awoke by the modem with 5 hours of sleep, I was stiff bodied, yet excited to wake up in ‘his bed.  It was 8:30 a.m. I rolled over and moaned loud enough to draw attention to myself, knowing it would work .
I kept my eyes closed and softly said how sore my ribs and back were.  The hands of the night before returned to rub my body once again.  After a few minutes of morning massage, I smiled, giggled and rolled off the bed and darted to the pool.
Naked morning sunshine, I love it, jump in the pool and by the time I got fully wet the coffee came to me.  Everyone was eating breakfast poolside while I skinny-dipped my body into a limber state.  After breakfast everyone jumped in the pool with me, but I was the only one naked.  We all swam for 30 minutes or so.  I spotted the lounge chair and decided to sunbathe Seconds after my body reclined, the hands and oil came to pamper me once again.  I was spread out in full view of all in the pool, getting slicked up al over, with oil and such.  It felt great inside and out, I didn’t care that everyone was watching me get my ***** satisfied.  I was vividly aware of where I was, out in the open space and the freedom of space, as I thought my *** rose in the air and my body twitched repeatedly.  I heard the voices in the pool, and felt the sun on me as I came hard, right there in front of everyone.  Hell, I needed help getting up off that chair, and an oiled hand took mine, and led me to the master bedroom.
The master’s bed now has oil on the sheets and the headboard, and the wall.  I left myself all over his things.  He will know some of my essence whether he knows it or not, I will.  Here I sit naked in his den loving every naked minute of it.
I am back from being oil girl.  Being bent over people spreading glistening oil on nakedness, my *** got a lil bit to much sun!  I go to the master bedroom again, everyone is still poolside.  I try on things, because they are left out on the bed.  You know how I always ask what a mans' favorite pair of pants are?  Well there was 501’s in my size, I couldn’t resist sliding him on me, loving how they fit my ***.  I went back outside and paraded around showing how good ‘his pants fit me.  “Do you have underwear on?” I was asked, I laughed and said no.  I got an odd look from the people.  I danced off to the bedroom and put them back, knowing how he fit was enough.
Right now I am sitting outside writing and a camera is pointed right at my *****.  So I shall stand up for a few shots.  I got up and stood on the table and spread for some close ups, ****, ok enough sun, my **** are red.
After delivering a few drinks poolside, I return to ‘his bed, laying on my belly, thinking, pen in hand.
I hear the shower turn off and I close my legs, I feel the wet drops hit my back, as he sits on my legs.  He is holding them together with his weight.  I feel the oil hit my back, sliding down the crack of my ***.
The lower back massage becomes two bodies sliding against each other.  At first his hands slide between my tightly pressed thighs.  My hips grabbed and lightly lifted, raising my *** in the air, yet tightly holding my legs together.
A breath on my neck touched me at the same time he entered my ***** once again.  My pen never left my hand.  I was focused.
I go for a smoke and jump back into the pool, knowing its time for me to leave soon.  As I enter the main room, in just *******, I pick up my lotion and start putting it on my arms.  Hands from behind gently take the lotion and begin putting it on my sunburned back.  I defiantly feel the fact that I have ******* on as the hands reach my lower back and slowly pull them off……
This was my first husbands last attempt to keep me as his wife by taking me on a weekend to his friends house with a pool.
The story is very telling that my mind is truly not on present, but on what is not there. By saying this I almost ruin the erotica of it..but the psychology of the the story is rich too..
I wrote that day and the next paragraph by paragraph, each hour or so.
Who else was present is everyone who always saw me naked and saw it as no big deal. I was a nudist, they knew it. Its all very true...
sainche micano Aug 2015
wooo hooo!!
hurrah
in the puddle
where we stand
forgetting raindrops
& getting lost inside your eyes

wooo hooo!!!
i'm okay
with finding warmth
tasting drips off your pink lips
& sliding fingers through your hair

sweet sound of raindrops
the skies have joined us here
kissing in the rain
kissing in the rain
Donna Jul 2018
So there she was I
knew I saw Jennifer the
fairy in the sky

O she twinkled bright
left happy zig zags flowers
floating so freely

Anyway as I
sunbathed whilst dean fished ,I saw
a big willow tree

Oh my he looked like
had the **** , Jennifer made
his eyes go bosseyed!

She was trying to
round up the dragonflies but
they kept flying off

I was observing
as usual eating a cheese
and tomoto roll

Jennifer was bored
again so she surfed across
the pond racing the

mallards and swans , her
tiny wings tried to keep up
but she had slowed down

But Jennifer was
not going to lose , she loved
to win always..it

was a problem she
had since she was born , her best
friend Peter the Snail

told her on many
occasions to lose is not
a bad thing it can

be a good thing as
well , but she'd much to learn
For now she wanted

to win, she fired
her bow and arrow and hit
a passing carp fish

All of a sudden
The carp turned into a
dragon , she jumped on

his back and both raced
through the sky towards Mr
Willow who was still

in a grumpy mood
but I could actually see
a twinkle in his

eye , he waved his long
arms in the air , Jennifer
and the dragon

had won the race , the
swans and mallards huffed and puffed
not happy with her

winning , I looked at
her and smiled , by now my big
toe was hurting me

And Deans fishing rod
was bleeping , he had caught a
carp, but oh no it

wasn't a carp it
was a dragon,  Jennifer
had forget to turn

him back into a
carp , wooo me and dean run as
fast as we could back

to van where he drove
like a maniac to dodge
the dragon who once

was a carp , as I
looked out the rear window I
could see Jennifer

giggling , she was
riding the dragon with her
bow and arrow , I

thought to myself she's
a mischievous fairy
And I just smiled wide

I got home quickly
and me and dean had salad
and a nice cold drink

Dean still can't believe
we got chased by a dragon
Maybe one day I

shall tell him about
Jennifer the fairy and
I bet he'd smile too

:)
Just quickly wrote this I used my imagnation to make a story about my fairy called Jennifer she popped up in my mind again , was inspired at fishing trip today xxxxxx
Have a lovely week and soz if I don't get to read you all I'm getting married in 3 weeks so life is hectic **
Lv u all take cares <3
PNasarudheen Dec 2011
Oh..,Ah, Wooo...Woe, Waw.
New Year creeps from dark Old
Emerging fears smear around
Wet, sweating  the poor hold
Yelling hounds in wild field
Expectations bloom red to dry
Amidst the Constitutional cry
Really,moves on coins' rail
2012's Capital West-ward frail.

A panic Year or frolic Year near,
Be it Happy to all my dear.
Shannon Sep 2014
I am running legs flying like Hermes wings.
I am running past, so far beyond the pain.
I am running from that kiss... tender kiss. Stupid kiss,
wanton, lustful, bursting kiss.
full of promises and tasting like salty beer and silky words
slithering arm around my waistline
making me forget I have time to waste
I am running,
from your words.
I am running from the picket fence and
picket hearts
and how do I belong in this circle of things ?
I am running and
I breathe so much better out here alone.
I am running until I can't see that house with
manicured lawn and
manicured family
me so wily,
wooo so wild.
If I hear my footsteps
I've come too close to my heart.
I am running and the trees, they race me in a blur
                                           when I turn my head
                      They are waving back.
I am running and the sun gets a head start,
but always falls behind, behind.
I am running
can't
outrun
you
can't unrun
you
can't unring
you
can't ignore this bell.
I am running and as fast as I go,
I can't outrun a circle,
and I hear the bells.
Yes, I hear the bells, runner.

sahn
9/14/14
always grateful that you share my work. touches me.
Jade Musso Jan 2014
Which color would you like?

Blue makes me tired
Yellow makes me wired
Pink makes me ... whaaaaaaat?

Green makes me swirly
Orange makes me girly
Teal makes me WOOOO WOOO WOOOO

None fit the part
None want to play
None will make me go far away
Kaitie Dec 2012
Woof woof, arf.
Food, woof arf arf.
Wuff wooooo wooo

Arf arf,
Outside! Walk!? WRUF
Woof woof arf aaawooo

Woof arf--
Cuddles arf arf...
Arf woof aroof!

Let's go! Woof!
Ruffly translated.
People gather around
To take a pic from sky to concrete
Ground
All astound and hopes of someone
To drown
Their "like" buttons
Make sure every angle is to
Perfection
Scared to face rejection social media is
A design toxication
Minus education
Perfection over imperfection has
Become our
Destination
We want people to wooo us when we're down
Give a bunch of thoughts to people
Youve never met
I a poet a philosopher a healer SM a drug and the companies in charge
Are the dealers
Leeched into your brains
Electromagnetic waves that leave ya
Drained
Soul stained can't really wash away the pain
Only if you stand in the rain and let mother nature reign
Inhale the oxygen from the universes
Breath
With every step and hearts that beats as the chills crept
Your itching or jonin' trying to reach the phone
To check the "status" of a post that's long gone
Social media has made us normal
In an abnormal
Society it breeds jealousy hate and
Envy
Real turned into fake relationship and
Friendship
Nowadays you can't even say hi without someone
Peepin' their eyes
In their cellular devices looking for the nicest
Puttin' up fake images and we're pillaged
By a village of
corporations
More soever we have more folks going to therapy Over the
internet than over common problems
Such as domestic
Violence I'm trying to form an anti-media alliance
With so much denial and the uprise of
Violence
So think go outside nature's real they society ain't
Unplug yourself from the matrix cuz
They stayin' playin' tricks
#RIPhumanity
Aiden Sep 2010
Deep breath, in, out, again.
Feeling my heart beat, being my heart beat.
Hearing the quiet hum, spin and hum quietly.
Smelling the air, just the air.
Seeing the harvest moon, Selene and Demeter go hand in hand.
Tasting the dry water, from the stale cat's tongue.
Ahhh taste. mmmmm taste.
hot apple cider, darkest of chocolates, his kiss.
Ahhh sight. oooo sight.
warm of the leaves, cool of the water, his eyes... are both.
Ahhh sent, hooo sent.
winter mixed with fall, dinner, his embrace.
Ahhh sound, bouuu sound.
pings and pongs, whistles and clicks, his laugh.
Ahhh touch, wooo touch,
warm skin, cold wind, his heart.
So much thought, one thing to think about,
then why am I so busy?
Just,
Deep breath, in, out, again.
why..why do we all want to go to the place..
where everyone follows the rule..
where every where
..and...everything is clean and ti-ty, quiet, and BLAND!...like plan oatmeal
..Why not! go to a place...
where everything is a crazy upside down world when everyone breaks the rules..
takes chances and goes wild. (God did you ever think of it like that..well, I have) and I  think it would be fun to have the misadventures and doing what I want
WOOO!
to feel more alive when I’m not.. have you ever felt that before and be honest.. really have you.  
I understand that I would rather have zombies at a party then nuns. Nuns are vicious                                    
Its like choosing a fire ******* over a M1 Abrams tank.BOOM!
If I was to rest for eternity I want it to be adventurous a world up-side-down,
not a place where there is nothing to do but listen to silence. Like a fracking library God i hate libraries  
When someone tells me that I have to Believe what they believe
so i can be happy all I say “sorry bro,already watched tosh.0 I know where i’m heading”
Why say your amens when you can eat almonds with chocolate
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2019
like any ancient "text":
abbreviations not handy...
i.e.
   (except that
sort, kind, genus):
if not on loan then...
                "handy"...
   lying about like ruins
of the stipend of
architectural t'inking...
***** gonna
groove speed'oh
or am i to chequer
those goggles
via a... "google"?
   now i know oogling:
but 'now no ogle...
the omega franchiße...
your plot of:
"sorting this of
******* out":
strobe?
sure: epileptic la la
angeles...
         like any ancient
"text":
shame, real shame...
given that i:
am using the, same,
*******,
phonetic, encoding,
as: what cannot
replicate the screams
of Pompeii!
****!
like: "back" to the future
with "no" past...

what's the difference
between
latinaporcus (pig latin:
pospolite:
jeno-glite...
            wzajem: tzn.
t. wszystko: razem)
   and latinarubico?

scholasticism
doesn't exist on the street
even if the street is
an internet page...
schooled
in: rev. up the
mo-ped Essex boy:
orange man
is, as bad if
you only knew what
orange was
without a prior
to lecture about
Louis XIV,
Vill schksch'tzzz
von H'orange...
and... a tanning
salon in Romford...

can't we...
somehow... like...
make surds
more indicative
in this language?

like:

     'nome: for gnome...
  'nosis: for gnosis...
       wet *****
of a tongue whenever
Rhu'ha'n'ah's tongue
disturbia comes on:
Bahamas' variety
of bongo bongo...

            surds!

             'now... ah!
ha!
        lookie lookie:
Luke the Lucky fluke...
'now...
  that's a tricky surd...
that "missing" K...

can't blame herrinspektor clueso
or the
    the kkk took my baby away
band either...

now could never
become 'know...
look... a: UFO... that, yes:        '
  indicator of a letter
being: "missing"...

           nau-   wooo wooo wooo
casper caught a keeper...

              and the greek?
tau...
ergo?

                  to 'now (snort)
and no awe with
an: exfoliating ah...
                      akin to "now"...

but to 'ork is no slice
of pork in what
was once Cockney...
that became 'ackney (H)...

that came:
  a while away from
the worth of a
   white 'night's
   strut into...
               scalps sold
hanging off camel humps
like chandeliers:
and yes:
the rotating bonanza
like, some...
    
      yes... yes... carousel...
disco rubic cube jargons
of esoteric epileptic
      dance-offs
   bragging
   **** contra *****
satiating sizes
versus the dervishes
       of Istambul...

kwald ah numb'd
toon'g ah too'r n'ah dough...

called a numbed
             tongue a tornado!

yes, yes: said the psychiatrist:
i too thought that
oysters could compete
in the olympic tradition
of performing the belly to
a fosbury's flop
worth of:
            ...and that street
cat... "just"... curdled "itself"
into my welcoming
arms...
i became an armchair...
and it became
a Siberian shawl...
very much a Moscovian
day-to-day photo-opportunity...

ancient texts:
modern bogus...
ancient latin "sort of"
deviates from excruciating
the reader with
any pronoun usage...
conjunctions are
used sparingly...
namely the logic of
mirror tautology,
or: mirror ad infinituum...

forget about
prepositions as such...
whatever grammar was, was,
current grammar?
too volatile...
eat a parsnip:
**** out a whiff of
absinthe
   in the variety of
having ingested:
fennel root...
   savvy?

now NOT 'now!
now NOT 'now!
now NOT 'now!


   no one's going to shout
that sort of pedantic
observation, any time, soon...

           ooh... hollowed out
omicron... not an elongated
omicron in the form
of an omega...

    ooh...
write me the phonetic
transcript... pretty please!

nau 'not no'!....

   ooh! pretty pretty!
yeah it's time for the hood to stand on they feet
and rep the code of the street
knockin out m and m
with polos shirt
polo jeans and black timbs
extracting limbs
we marchin' like platoons sending dooms
hits like Beruit
these fools is fruit
sweeter than Nabisco
keep the Crisco
roll the molly up slow
so ya know my flow
is smooth and mellow
castin bellows not ya modern day fellow
black as Othello
not Shakespeare
but my gun can make you transform
into the invisible atmosphere
here me clear I have no fear
pressure ya like peers steer
this rap game back to correction
once I make the alignment
hataz get confinement
extort loot like embezzlements
this ain't for embellishment
yeah I'm  hell sent
far from a repent
and you feel my presence
without my presence
I'm coasting beats roasting
leave tracks toast and
who? hotter than me
I beat any and every
emcee that trys to step to me
I'm like sensory
but the message is conveyed cuz I paid
my dues with trues
I deliver rhymes fast
like heard of bad news
so ya know yallin the defeat
try a compete
competition in a sleep
c uz I be the code of the streetts




is it pain or madness
I'm attracting to?
check the door that ya step through
mystical mysterial
stackin' underground
imperials
now your inferior
blacks n latinos
be the surperiors
along with the indians and haitian to jamaican we ain't fakin we takin' mass land ******. a perfecto master plan
because
I like seeing bodies turn blues
like they choked out
gaspin' for air
I don't care
shouldn't have step into my lair
yeah yo rhymes
thin
as a follicle hair
stock rhymes like cement brick layers
true ol school playa  
I be the black Flair
make ya girlies
say wooo beating down crews
like Egyptian slaves none could pave
a pathway I lay
more holier than scripture graphic picture
had to be censored
parental advisory is needed
when it heated like friction
breaking jurisdiction
**** this bias *** system
cold lynching us
mad at us cuz we
still alive
and our guns bust put trust
in myself
I'm a moor short
for Hebrew pointin out the fake h
Jews
ya know ya time is limited
shy but far from timid
runnin the game like Emitt
Smith take a spliff so I can get a lift
and let the hydro take me to astral
let the thoughts flow
on the beat giving subliminal for the code of the streets
It seem like only yesterday
But then my heart skips a beat
And then I know
it's been a long and winding
Road and long long time ago
But still there time yet...
You could take a plane; I could
Catch the train.  Seem I almost
Can hear the whistle blow from
The Old Blue Moon Cafe So So
Long it seems to say -still we can
Catch up  Wooo Wooo Too Late
Again its not today we begin....

You've been busy I've been busy
We've been busy doing what?
Same old same old nothing new
Always thinking of ya such a lot
Of tears I have shed.  Can't stop
Crying now thinking I'll not see
You again now before I am die
Still wishing our love was never
Going to to end with us apart
Party zone


Johnny' hi everyone and welcome to party zone where we celebrate the weeks activities like the alligator surprising the residents of a national park and the big bash coming to an end next week
And the Tamworth country music festival has started
And now here is Tommy the
Feline with a drinking song

I would love to get drunk with
Jsckson because he is a fun guy
We would crack open a coldie
And say to each other
Getting drunk like this is so much fun
The drink we choose is beer
Cause it makes us feel so great
And we get do drunk and we arrive home after half past 8
In the morning
And here is my next song called
Working class man
Working hard to make a living
And getting drunk every night
Drinks like tooheys and XXXX
And a vb yeah it makes you feel like a hooligan
Wooo woooo woooo woooo
Beer makes me a working class man
You see a person who doesn't drink is a little person
And needs to learn s lot
About how to drink the
Whole thing down
Without Ronny letting out a big frown
I will crack open a nice beer
Right in his face
Woooo woooo woooo woooo
Beer makes you a working class man
Johnny' ok now it is time to see
Tom tickle
Tom
I drink a lot of beer and we have a lot of fun
You see anyone who says tor kick conservos up the ***
How are you going mate
I will say to him
Saying his is a very conservative dude and hates our partying ways
You just say ******* conservos
Get out of this town  
Please leave me be
So I can party right up against your frown
I drink a lot of beer
And I have fun
Johnny'. Thanks tommy and now that is time to finish up
And see you next week
Lawrence Hall Apr 2022
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                     High-Speed Space Chatter

laser focus absolutely mission control
a very brief hold okay The Roaring Twenties
Ready to go final checks revs up
I can’t wait to see auto-sequence

We’ve entered a brief hold our teams will assess
we’ll be right back that hold has been released
ladies and gentlemen it is time Godspeed
we’re handing it over to mission control

our four human flight crew Godspeed
on its way to speece space

mego way to go! They just became official astronauts Carmen line well into space apogee returning from space fins all earning their keep really doing some work what an incredible sight out there critical step sonic boom man! Was that incredible! I just love hearing that sound! Touchdown New Shepherd! Welcome back to earth all I can say Jackie is wow! Will take your breath away there’s nothing like it right above that feather beginning to dump propellants that’s a key there go the main parachutes! For the Roaring Twenties crew flying today from the blackness of space to standby touchdown the West Texas desert standby touchdown standby touchdown standby touchdown Wooo!  Wooo! Official U.S. astronauts...
Lawrence Hall Apr 2022
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                     High-Speed Space Chatter

laser focus absolutely mission control
a very brief hold okay The Roaring Twenties
Ready to go final checks revs up
I can’t wait to see auto-sequence

We’ve entered a brief hold our teams will assess
we’ll be right back that hold has been released
ladies and gentlemen it is time Godspeed
we’re handing it over to mission control

our four human flight crew Godspeed
on its way to speece space

mego way to go! They just became official astronauts Carmen line well into space apogee returning from space fins all earning their keep really doing some work what an incredible sight out there critical step sonic boom man! Was that incredible! I just love hearing that sound! Touchdown New Shepherd! Welcome back to earth all I can say Jackie is wow! Will take your breath away there’s nothing like it right above that feather beginning to dump propellants that’s a key there go the main parachutes! For the Roaring Twenties crew flying today from the blackness of space to standby touchdown the West Texas desert standby touchdown standby touchdown standby touchdown Wooo!  Wooo! Official U.S. astronauts...
Charles Sturies Aug 2017
It's me, being a broken record
Yeah the expression of Zep-pul
in as in they're good but most people
cared about what they consider an obscure
rock group from "across the water"
Wooo, Awesome - words they say that really describer
something just here in the States to
them that get on my nerves since the
people who utter them find themselves
so worldly I want to know what are they doing being patriotic for.
Tolkien novels and those movies with
Daniel Radcliffe - I'm big deal since
most Americans are about fantasy with a
European bent.
Far out describing a crazy person seems to
be implying that the crazy are a bunch
of simpleton communists if what my
guess is by what they mean by far out is correct.
These are just a few of the utterances of
pinkos in the country who in my opinion want
to overthrow the federal government.
Charles Sturies
Every breaded baker on flat Earth with a flit in the least must avoid
the infamously notorious Sammy Davis goy-lovin' **** Yeast-'rhoid
I need a new heart attack in my chest from ***** Christopher Lloyd
whose left eye socket was anatomically harvested from ***** Boyd
ZACK GRAM Nov 2019
I spit you swallow and hold it in for
nine months then **** it back on me for 18 years child support lots of old shoes therapy session wooo saaas prayers mostly amen you get the point literally lol jk love you
Have Mercy
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
you know when you're so severely dehydrated,
you walk into a kitchen,
tilt a teapot into your mouth
   and start figuring out the mirage:
oh, yummy, milk in it to boot
    (which is not exactly an english,
but a siberian "thing", in the origins narrative),
and a teaspoon (howlin' wolf: ah woooo!
    beats b. b. king... hard time with
                   john lee ******) of sugar!
- upon subsequent realißation -
     oh, right, neither, just the black tea;
oh well,
     at least there's the sunday times
                              newspaper to read:
   or what remains of the middle ground:
"gender fluid" wooo oooo loop of oopsy
   and: are you ******* mad?
Butch Decatoria May 2020
4:56 p.m./ Tuesday Afternoon at the super pet supply shoppe.
In the city its already summertime, the scorching heat stays just  beyond the sliding doors, and inside the air is cool. Not crowded by any means, but this is considered busy for pandemic times. Only some wear masks and latex, what’s truly worn are only long faces of oh my lord—where’s the love?

    A single check out cashier, a mid thirties brunette, and coworker assistant manager slash younger awkward late twenties Wanna be friend. The two women volley their conversation, keeping alert at work yet having witty banter, and under face mask subdued laughter. It’s their picture of professional. (No schisms).

There’s a short line of three customers at the only counter and cashier, a young Asian man who stays silent except his dark brows and wide almond eyes behave way too loud and anxious. He quickly exits soon enough, with dog treats and receipt—gone, left behind no remark or clue of the presence of himself. who what now? Xexei. It was nothing who?

After him on the blue spot that’s six feet apart exactly, a kind golden girl—black grandma, carrying herself assuredly and queenlike proud and strong. She has had a lifetime to know better how not to show expressions out in a world full of fear and angry hate and judgemental folks concealing their guns. Only when she speaks will others know the emotional landscape on her color, purple dark like a bruise, they are all earth Tone and pale flesh, they all knew hate somehow, somewhere. But this simple moment outside homes of box, apartment  cage, incarcerated times (more or less an animal) here, there’s no danger. Not eminent or otherwise, not from what she could tell. She relaxes shoulders a tiny bit, sighs at the clarity of time’s aging wisdom. Congenial, since there was no recourse or fight ergo no recoil of folks from keeping it real with each other. Yeah, she nods to herself, there no danger ‘round here, though with covid 19, most stress biting the fear.

A dark skinned couple enter, a bull size of a man leading the way for her to follow. He had that look about him —a Mad dog glaring at those he sees, reading their faces, smelling the air, ready to stomp on anyone that would make a racist comment with their ****** que’s. He seemed as if he were looking for an enemy the way his furrow swept the room. His ***** follows behind, and she’s embarrassing enough, he tells himself, she’s a giant babae’s kid; ***** broccoli Brillo hair, unruly growth with twigs and leaves and twine. she is taller than him, bringing herself more attention, but her blank face and fat lips pursed, her eyes rolling— not with attitude but lack of aptitude most women her age possess. He seems to be thinking let’s see which one these ******* gonna say somethin’. At least that’s what his face said...

    “So yeah, like I was saying,” says the younger assistant manager with her pigtails trying too hard, while she folds boxes and wipes baskets and disinfects shopping carts. “Since we work with pets, I think we begin to treat our men like so…”

As a young man in a white tank checks out and exits the store, the cashier remarks under her breath, completely distracted, it was louder than under, the breath that everyone heard. Her coworker catches the last view before the doors slide closed, she nods, her pigtails still trying too **** hard.

    “I don’t mind THAT kind of stray coming home with me,” brunette cashier says, then  both women chuckle, one howling like a wolf,”ah wooo!”
    “But he’s not ***** trained” someone says.
    “He’s old enough honey, he’ll know what he’s doing and getting.” Checker gal continued with a hint of doubt.
    “I would rather have a well trained lap dog who’s house broken.” the older lady in line says then,”if you going to have to, yknow get yourself a dawg, then it better be well trained by none other than you yourself sister child” she begins to smile wildly and giggles at the thoughts she thought.
    “You can take the stray home for a night or two,sure. But mmm child, if it’s longer, they literally will stay without havin’ given your verbal command,” the women are laughing together now, and pause their work since she was the only customer at the check out anyhow. “It gets ugly tho’— when you try to oust a pit bull out cha house. No Siree I’d rather have my baby boo who’ve I trained to come and lay his face on my lap—“ more gaffaws at this. “And who fetches what ever it is i need. And most times it’s just sit and give mamma kisses, hehehe…”

“Amen to that sister!” The blonde girl folding boxes suddenly grabbed her own mouth slapping herself with the reaction she got, their audible inhaled breath and wide eyed glances shot in her direction. *** she mouthed was that racist?  “I’m so sorry. Oh my god oh my god oh my god … I swear I’m not racist, ma’am. I mean I know I’m not cuz I want a black man for a boyfriend, I’ve always wanted one…get married to one—” her last remark set the strong older lady into a fit of laughter, which infected those around them.

Embarrassment turned into acceptance, feeling accepted, that human connection covid19 couldn’t **** or take from us.

After some time, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes, and work had carried on in the interim, the hilarity lessened as the older lady paid with her debit card. Her final remark as she gathered her shopping bags,”becareful nowadays with the brothers, yknow if you bumpin uglies, cuz most now are just ruthless dawgs. Tearing your life and home apart. **** ruthless dawgs.”

‘I wonder who’s at fault’, they all coincidentally thought.

* * *
löven Jun 2022
It's a cohort to weep about
I'd dream about crying to

Making beautiful songs only I'd understand, because of course, I am a baffled artist
Because I am true to my ego, I have nothing to show for it, it's only sincere,
that I stagnante, that I don't create, that I move to a different country
All I want is to believe, believe

Oh my god, I need you close, I want it back so bad, the vision of her I had, the one who was tortured,  

The one who cried and threw up her emotions in paint and scribble
I miss her - the one who was crude
Not you.
You're boring now

You decipher your emotions
And now everyone is bigger than you, in a way

But you still tell everyone to shut up, just in a more intelligent way, not in a

Trueness is sweat,

Tears and blood you work cry and bleed
But your blood is sort of whet on
You bleed fruitless vanity
And dampen the clothes of crying feebled children







wee wooo wee ooo weeooo
trip grand jetée
Pennies sold on fruitless array
Pity souls in the
Yenson Dec 2020
Does it get boring toying with nonentities
is it worth the bother stirring the momentum of chavs
is it even vaguely interesting fencing with half-baked semi-illiterates
I wouldn't know for I am just a man who's  not intimidated
by stupid dumb ghost in misguided neon mirages
and I am not bothered by yelling boo back
at cushion soft white cloaks full of damp air
core-less with no essence and pliable
boo boo oo wooo boo woo
there's nothing real about you
even your mothers can't talk to you
boo woo
hahaha....do ghost ever make love or are they too soft....hahaha
come on we need to laugh as the winter nights close in....

— The End —