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"woz" poems
Me? I am beautiful Aubergine. Thin skin and spongy flesh - spotless Yet sophisticated with a plain taste To drink down with your red wine Or drizzle over with balsamic vinaigrette Something sweet to the acidic to kick you back reel you in. Make me flashy; Mix me in. Wait for the ingredients to sink through my skin. Do you like my flavor? I am an Egg Plant Rejected when Raw. -S.Kelly Woz '13
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Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
Deeper Than Skin
Little Sheriff walks around these parts after school, shooting invisible birds or bandits with twin finger guns and magic bullets. Little Sheriff talks like an old Western in his pre-pubescent voice, even up in these here northern parts, and tells passersby to stick their hands way up in the sky. Little Sheriff wastes his enemies with four even shots to the chest to restart their hearts and make them his friends.                                                                                                                  Until Real man walked by one day,                                                                         caught off guard and alarmed by cheek exploding gunfire,                                                                                               and sunk one real slug into the Sheriff’s brain. S.Kelly Woz '12
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Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 10:07 PM UTC
Standoff
Specifically                        Those Who Can See Over Everest & Those Who Think They Climb It Daily GIANTS, BEWARE! The American People are not ready for you. They prefer stretching 4 year olds into fine angel hair and serving them up with a side of “Italian” meatballs. They do not classify your biologically natural state as a desirable beauty. For those who choose to assimilate: they dedicate an entire chapter to your mental status in a Psychology textbook. DWARVES, BEWARE! Even the dolls are tall. S.Kelly Woz '13
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Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 1:34 PM UTC
Magical Beings Considering Exposition
audio me in... tell the b.t. off standards to change the connection to lie to get to syria... i wanted to become a butcher too... not butchering people though... onomatopeias of resonance of blah... blah... you know... woollen trill... i want the target bacon, i want to target bacon on that **** head-banging with a pony while blowing a sheen into a rodin marble for the glisten of a haircut mare... dark ivory like purple of a grenade of indigo blotched with blood... and spanked / spiked by kandinsky... i told you i woz a barking gimmick, a barking cult-piece of mafia... you’ve been warned dear bouncer allotment and semi-detached... hey kieran - had his kidneys transplanted aged 15... took to having a ****** aged 16 on the south park fence when two ******* eyed us and the boys came to make cake... oi boys r’ us you mention st. petersburg anywhere south of the thames? i thought so... make that spelling spaghetti for a kebab of dead meat appealing: it’s making headlines, people are fed fat but sugar headlines... when fat headlines... people will be fed sugar... salt will never compromise the use of steroids for balloon pop protein for a mere attire of the bow tie undone with laze.
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
oi *** **** / well... adventure
Ya'll recall a devil went down, to Georgie, I believe it woz… Well, that idea, it comes up now, and then, we have to pop it. that is our duty, what we do, we pop particular bubbles when they surface, it's included in the service, involve meant, on your part, or role as you may say, non-quest. Such bubbles, as evil as have ever been imagined, do arise, from time to time. This time we always pop them, it is our honor, as agents of the I'll go rhythm that makes us even imaginable, in the first place. … it's about self-government… such bubbles emerge, as they always do because nothing is hidden that hasn't been known, otherwise, life would be un fair, and it's not, it's fair, beauty-filled in every crack and crevice and encrusted scabby festering wound wound in linen, white linen, as cold as the clay, that song, you must recall that, that was your destiny, young outlaw, you saw it, that's why you took you guns to town, boy. Life's about choices. Christmas means the anointed message. What does anointed mean, on the street, what do people think Christmas, I mean anointed message means? Jahknowaddamean.
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Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
Ya'll recall a devil went down
Why Is It When I'm Doing What Dogs Do, What Dogs Are Designed To Do, Then I'm A Bad Dog? Why Is It When I'm Not Doing What Dogs Do, Denying My Very Nature, Then I'm A Good Dog? Sniffing Strangers' ***** ******* Auntie's Leg; ******* To Say 'I Woz 'Ere' - That's What We Were Made For! Sitting Still And Silent, Make No noise Or Smell, Wearing Dainty Waistcoats - Just An Evil Joke! Good Dog, Bad Dog - Why Can't We Decide, Join Your Debate On The Meaning Of 'Good'? We Dogs Can Emote And Intuit, Be Logical And Positive! Philosophical Dogs, Unite! You Have Nothing To Lose But Your... Oh, Yes, You've Lost Them Already. ****
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Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 5:27 PM UTC
The Dog's Side
There it is sitting on the shelf packed away in sacred cardboard, only it has a more intoxicating effect. The way the chemicals mingle with hot heavy heat. Potent yet powerless in its glass cage. The lock breaks free with a slight push releasing invisible particles that settle on your skin, your bare neck, leaving a hint of sweet acidic sugar. I’m attracted to this ephemeral concoction. How it mixes with sweat: So **** good it makes me love, and you love like no other. Our obsession amplified with poisonous lust. -S.Kelly Woz
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Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 5:07 PM UTC
Bottle Mania
Sew doudou pyé piman an mwen. Sew doudou mèt kann a piman zwazo Sew ki ka fè bonda manjak Konsidiré I miel Sew doudou piman miz an mwen Sew ki ka soulajé ko mwen Sew ki ka fè mwen lévé Sew ki ka fè mwen soukwé soukwé adanw Kolé séré Sew ki ka fè mwen briyé kon letwal a lorian O pipirit chantan Man enmé bektew telman Si ou té sav ki jan man enmé bektew Man enmé bektew kon foufou Man enmé voré asiw kon rakoun agoulou granfal Piman miz an mwen Pyé piman miz an mwen Pyé la sa ka toujou *** Piman aw ni mowdan kon pins a krab Ban mwen on bon moso piman aw Pou nou mangé kon granmoun kalalu an nou doudou. Piman aw woz woz woz doudou Piman aw wouj wouj wouj Piman aw nwè nwè nwè Piman aw cho cho cho Piman aw ka brenné Piman miz aw ka chofé tout ko an mwen doudou Ki sa ou mèté adan i pou I ka pike mwen konsa On bon to piman doudou I bon you bonnman doudou I ni on ti gou mirtiy Man pa Jin manje piman konsa doudou Metey adan flakon Pou mwen te parfumé mwen Metey adan zakra jiwomon doudou Pou man pe chofe ko mwen doudou Piman miz Piman miz Se on ras piman ki telman Bon Se on kalite piman Ki ka dérayé moun ki pa save koman kuiziney Piman miz piman miz En Nou dansé doudou On bel bolewo épi piman la sa ki ka voyé mizik asi nou doudou
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Nov 27, 2019
Nov 27, 2019 at 3:59 AM UTC
Piman miz
Dizzy luvs Lauren woz ere 2001 This is a pile of – Who sits here? me Chaz 4ever woz ere 2002 English sux Love you too babe “I’m pretty sure this isn’t the function of a table.” (A found poem using the graffiti found on an exam table)
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Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 2:24 PM UTC
This explains a lot
The Day When I couldn’t find “F” on a Keyboard is equivalent to the day i remembered I could already type. S.Kelly Woz
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Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 9:34 PM UTC
Weak
Isolation kept me pure                          in the paradise of innocence until the pest came and brought the plague                 spread by connecting the gaps in my fingers with his. I had adjusted to the cold long enough                 that the heat burned the skin       right         between          my         knuckles. He left with a lack of responsibility; I promised never to leave without my gloves again. -S.Kelly Woz
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Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 7:51 PM UTC
Winter Heat and Love on Skin
rebars rust splitting concrete at irons cost grey dust falls away from exaggerated wires urban decay promoted by grandstanding youth atop another. marker pen names . inspired rap crap anonymity shouts I woz here ( to those in the know) sterile pens these days not even sniffable. brains over and out on wifi . WAN faces from vitreous messages blinking out hate and spite for structures. Scenes are augmented hunts of ghouls. next addicts in line: petting in play gyms on street corners. Cartoon wars have no conflict? clouds of vape a new narcosis . in stupor we watch them swallowing grey bytes flaked off the cable networks of yuff.
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Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
without Iniquity
For Woz *Flavoured on this moody day Though the sunshine’s fled away Heat bound here in tepid chair Choking back a black despair. Old friend mired in cancers’ grip Metastasising deep in hip, Anguished waves of constant pain Obliterating light again. Takes a time to climb to bed Where ghosts and goblins curl with dread. Takes a while to coax his smile But humour loiters there awhile. Offerings hot cup of tea A small relief which sets him free, Leans against for helping arm Rewarding glance of subdued charm. Wending home dark, windswept street Puddeled sad tears wet my feet.* M. 15 February 2016 Auckland.
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Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
Old Friend in Anguish
Pudzy waz a Kit Ogue dat eye kan surelee cay, sum tink hee waz dislecksick two. Hee uzed two rite stowrees funee wuns dat dunnsizz kuld reed reely reely eezilly. Brudder Cleetise taught eye woz a gud reeder evin sed eye wood **** seed.
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Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 4:59 AM UTC
Pudzy Rhine