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"yap" poems
The man at the bar He is a young **** He's got years on his slate Double my own A bottle of scotch He swishes away The British way Born in London Now a Southerner Touring the country With his Wife, Elene Not missing a thing Quite the engineer Laughing away With each glass The bartender brings Flapping his yap At the pretty young miss Residing at the bar Enjoying her dinner No longer feeling a part From the crowd
0
Oct 21, 2011
Oct 21, 2011 at 8:58 PM UTC
Young ****
im   NOT   sexting you im   NOT   that kind of man i really never think about such things   and deplore that behavior in my male counterparts really its disgusting i never look at your face and never think   what would it be like to kiss you to kiss your *** your drooly pert ***** to be your foot slave   geisha boy sticky pink full a joy boy toy jolly lolly pop **** im   NOT lookin at that teensty little picture of you and stinckin thinkin   mmmmmmm is her life all ****** up is she married to dead in the bed lookin fer love is she hornyyyyyyy   all vanilla   or   a ***** *****   spicy hot ***** who likes it hard like a delicious hate **** that's just to   hot hot hot for tender love   no ow you beautiful steamy creamy thing   NOT at   all ravenous for feral porkers at the feeding trough NOT   caring that tomorrow you are my bacon maybe hoping you wanna be bacon for a raw lascivious wet mouth and big teeth all achy starved slick yap salivating like a sopping squeezing porous sponge   to be chewed and digested no objectification here hell no im   NOT   sexting you NOT!!
0
Jul 19, 2017
Jul 19, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
I'M NOT SEXTING YOU
i love you. i love you. i love you. you prepared me for this and i can't decide whether it's ok for me to feel as relieved as I do when I am not crying i've never felt so much instant pain and relief all at once so confusing-- my ****** lady who walks like a trucker piebald nightcaps tree terrace 800+ hours miles upon miles of cigarettes dengue. my heart. my heart. you brought me to Christ you showed that God is love you've left such a huge rainbow in the earth's clay i miss you i want you but I don't need you now you know that we know that my heart. you dreamt me and robbie will one day meet we will and it won't be incredibly soon --but it doesnt matter. promise brothers promise sister Ngariy. please hug Tithinfal for me i'm glad you are with him now im trying to go to Yap on Tuesday for a week to see Ray and Celine and the kids to see Tingin our spots the island wide the tunnel behind peace corps i inadequatley described to you but that you can now see and feel with ****** yapese local music blaring in the background i'll be fine you know I will with heart on fire I reach out to you tonight all nights. i'll find Zeyto i'll hug him those eyes i'll sit in Gilin's kitchen and chainsmoke i'll make you proud i'll spread your word i'll spread your message i'll spread your love i'll make it to Africa and ill see you again before we both know it i love you. and i'm good ill learn to dance with a limp rug baadagem ni odig, tinmad gu baadagem. forever forever forever go rest
0
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 7:45 AM UTC
Obituary Note
i love you. i love you. i love you. you prepared me for this and i can't decide whether it's ok for me to feel as relieved as I do when I am not crying i've never felt so much instant pain and relief all at once so confusing-- my ****** lady who walks like a trucker piebald nightcaps tree terrace 800+ hours miles upon miles of cigarettes dengue. my heart. my heart. you brought me to Christ you showed that God is love you've left such a huge rainbow in the earth's clay i miss you i want you but I don't need you now you know that we know that my heart. you dreamt me and robbie will one day meet we will and it won't be incredibly soon --but it doesnt matter. promise brothers promise sister Ngariy. please hug Tithinfal for me i'm glad you are with him now im trying to go to Yap on Tuesday for a week to see Ray and Celine and the kids to see Tingin our spots the island wide the tunnel behind peace corps i inadequatley described to you but that you can now see and feel with ****** yapese local music blaring in the background i'll be fine you know I will with heart on fire I reach out to you tonight all nights. i'll find Zeyto i'll hug him those eyes i'll sit in Gilin's kitchen and chainsmoke i'll make you proud i'll spread your word i'll spread your message i'll spread your love i'll make it to Africa and ill see you again before we both know it i love you. and i'm good ill learn to dance with a limp rug baadagem ni odig, tinmad gu baadagem. forever forever forever go rest
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74
Fat women with Fur coats To warm their overfed Heaps of mass Holding overpriced Elongated, mechanical strings Attached to their Mouse-like dogs That wear clothes That cost more Than my entire outfit Shirt, jeans, boots, jacket Combined They yap to small devices Glued to their ears Like instruments Of envy and jealousy Yelling at their husbands Or boyfriends Or pool boys Who haven't done their job Either paying for whatever they want Or neglecting to net out That last nat From their jacuzzis Where they sip white wine And sizzle in soapy water Before getting out And slipping on shoes Made by kids In Cambodia Who have never held A hundred dollar bill What is wrong Who is right What is it That's been done Here None of it makes sense To me
0
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
Rich Women
i love you. i love you. i love you. you prepared me for this and i can't decide whether it's ok for me to feel as relieved as I do when I am not crying i've never felt so much instant pain and relief all at once so confusing-- my ****** lady who walks like a trucker piebald nightcaps tree terrace 800+ hours miles upon miles of cigarettes dengue. my heart. my heart. you brought me to Christ you showed that God is love you've left such a huge rainbow in the earth's clay i miss you i want you but I don't need you now you know that we know that my heart. you dreamt me and robbie will one day meet we will and it won't be incredibly soon --but it doesnt matter. promise brothers promise sister Ngariy. please hug Tithinfal for me i'm glad you are with him now im trying to go to Yap on Tuesday for a week to see Ray and Celine and the kids to see Tingin our spots the island wide the tunnel behind peace corps i inadequatley described to you but that you can now see and feel with ****** yapese local music blaring in the background i'll be fine you know I will with heart on fire I reach out to you tonight all nights. i'll find Zeyto i'll hug him those eyes i'll sit in Gilin's kitchen and chainsmoke i'll make you proud i'll spread your word i'll spread your message i'll spread your love i'll make it to Africa and ill see you again before we both know it i love you. and i'm good ill learn to dance with a limp rug baadagem ni odig, tinmad gu baadagem. forever forever forever go rest
0
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 7:45 AM UTC
Obituary Note
i love you. i love you. i love you. you prepared me for this and i can't decide whether it's ok for me to feel as relieved as I do when I am not crying i've never felt so much instant pain and relief all at once so confusing-- my ****** lady who walks like a trucker piebald nightcaps tree terrace 800+ hours miles upon miles of cigarettes dengue. my heart. my heart. you brought me to Christ you showed that God is love you've left such a huge rainbow in the earth's clay i miss you i want you but I don't need you now you know that we know that my heart. you dreamt me and robbie will one day meet we will and it won't be incredibly soon --but it doesnt matter. promise brothers promise sister Ngariy. please hug Tithinfal for me i'm glad you are with him now im trying to go to Yap on Tuesday for a week to see Ray and Celine and the kids to see Tingin our spots the island wide the tunnel behind peace corps i inadequatley described to you but that you can now see and feel with ****** yapese local music blaring in the background i'll be fine you know I will with heart on fire I reach out to you tonight all nights. i'll find Zeyto i'll hug him those eyes i'll sit in Gilin's kitchen and chainsmoke i'll make you proud i'll spread your word i'll spread your message i'll spread your love i'll make it to Africa and ill see you again before we both know it i love you. and i'm good ill learn to dance with a limp rug baadagem ni odig, tinmad gu baadagem. forever forever forever go rest
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74
sdrawkcab lla si ti semitemos sgniht  ta kool ot yap t’nseod eb dluohs yeht yaw eht ytilibats pu evig  ot nrael ytiugibma fo ssenteews eht ecarbme ekil-gurd si rewop sti sevird ti  sa sessessop ti shpmuirt taht ssendam a   tniop noitanimluc eht ta ytivitaerc fo ecand eht egru na ;regnuh a si ti tcepser a sdnammoc taht lausunu eht ,euqinu eht rof !ylpmoc ohw esoht staiwa dlrow wen elohw a -em evig noitanimreted emos noissap emos !ylf dna sgniw eht hcterts ot ssengnilliw emos - em ekam seil dna sevil taht sselraef a ytirucesni nwo sti yb detrofmoc - Vijayalakshmi Harish 27.08.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
0
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 2:27 AM UTC
The Incantation to Cure Creative Blocks
Consisting of grown, persisting as shown and unknown. Insisting entities, rivalries and sworn enemies! Deformed, forewarned, formed, informed, mourned, performed, reformed and scorned. Dates of great storms! Family tree of hate, horns and thorns. My family tree of gore, horror, more, poor and sore. Perhaps of mishaps galore. Briefly sit back! I’ll roughly take you back… Heck! Back to a time of attack, blacks, slacks and whacks. My family tree of practical, tactical, methodical Aztec. Some beckon and reckon in seconds. A family tree of crime, grime and rhyme. A nation of communication, dedication, dissemination, motivation and procrastination. The splendor of sin of my corruptive, disruptive kin. They rely more on the color of one’s skin. My family tree of abuse and misuse that misuses and seduces! Family tree of warfare and welfare legalities, moralities and family-prodigies. Picture this scriptural twist! Some assist on a kiss. I insist some are idealities in social technicalities. Alcoholics, diabetics, ****** exotic, fantastic, Catholics, eccentric, horrific and poetic. I persist… some gnomes, some roam, some in poems, some with no homes. My family tree of adventuresome, awesome, handsome and troublesome. My family tree of beautiful and bountiful! Some are a handful some handicap some locally and vocally-rap. Some slap, gift-wrap and yap! Some are snuggly, pretty, witty or ugly. In my family tree, some crippled, some with pimples, some with freckles and some that heckle. Some belittle and little, some wrinkled and old. Some are bold and pray to the lord! Some are Frio, meaning cold we were told. Some I say, are poor with no Amor. Some are here no more, in my family tree of Amor.
0
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 9:37 PM UTC
POEM ENTITLED: “MY FAMILY TREE OF AMOR”
Consisting of grown, persisting as shown and unknown. Insisting entities, rivalries and sworn enemies! Deformed, forewarned, formed, informed, mourned, performed, reformed and scorned. Dates of great storms! Family tree of hate, horns and thorns. My family tree of gore, horror, more, poor and sore. Perhaps of mishaps galore. Briefly sit back! I’ll roughly take you back… Heck! Back to a time of attack, blacks, slacks and whacks. My family tree of practical, tactical, methodical Aztec. Some beckon and reckon in seconds. A family tree of crime, grime and rhyme. A nation of communication, dedication, dissemination, motivation and procrastination. The splendor of sin of my corruptive, disruptive kin. They rely more on the color of one’s skin. My family tree of abuse and misuse that misuses and seduces! Family tree of warfare and welfare legalities, moralities and family-prodigies. Picture this scriptural twist! Some assist on a kiss. I insist some are idealities in social technicalities. Alcoholics, diabetics, ****** exotic, fantastic, Catholics, eccentric, horrific and poetic. I persist… some gnomes, some roam, some in poems, some with no homes. My family tree of adventuresome, awesome, handsome and troublesome. My family tree of beautiful and bountiful! Some are a handful some handicap some locally and vocally-rap. Some slap, gift-wrap and yap! Some are snuggly, pretty, witty or ugly. In my family tree, some crippled, some with pimples, some with freckles and some that heckle. Some belittle and little, some wrinkled and old. Some are bold and pray to the lord! Some are Frio, meaning cold we were told. Some I say, are poor with no Amor. Some are here no more, in my family tree of Amor.
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12
Oh the Archer, so brave in the sky! Think not, fool. Ruled by Jupiter, you liked to be liked by everyone, be the life of the party. Awwwwww, so transparent you are. This likeable, likey-like-like thing you try to weld translates to your horrific sense of insecurity, a second close to Cancer. You push your way through life, not out of real accomplishment, more out of riding the **** tails of others. You're the ******* scrub behind the velvet rope. In all reality, you simply drive a 325i from 2001. Sagittarius, the Universal world traveler in hearts and minds - lover of philosophy, you couldn't scratch your way out of local knitting club convention. You don't travel, you just write or yap about it. Good for nothing, what's the point of having a bow if you have no target, jack *** Advice: Stay home please, stay out of my way.
0
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
SAGITTARIUS: NOVEMBER 23rd-DECEMBER 22nd
. and your mug shot's shining through it's a vision true   (but the subject's taboo)               all             ugly               here morning sunshine    breakfast table    autumn cool you're poised to speak   a fly lands on your lolling spoon     then   i stand up merry                                       i make my vital move      the table backs away  distressed your eyes raise    i flop open my faminous mouth   and let the fumes draw in Surprise ! (no time for you to hold surplus breath -                              - form an expression - make any objection)               mechanism disjoints    like the raw riches i whip the plumb weight of my head   and strike mouth-chomp-grip   over your scalp and i am working you in with swift jaw shifts and hingery i **** on you with a smile and gullet                                         (past photos of you   shuffle glaucous before my inner eye) yap sock muscle   i operate   gumming on your head (ours was the world ; we got so lazy) budging in your hair   dampened by my saliva (our timid first meeting at a bar) and airway and my teeth softly folding back (us in bed-us in bed-us-in-bed)                                    and whole hog jaw agog (the tourist we made as a couple) i dilate and distend  crouch low to take your weight (the rise and falter of your sleeping chest) upend  your hands panic typing in the air         (the eyes of your investment in me) your feet flinging the heft back and forth        your shoulders break in and forward folding my chest cracks and wells                             (gifts we gave that touched heart and others that fell short) a complete engulfing meal of you                 (your childhood antidotes and teenage feelings we discussed) down my soft disposal                                      (all my memories of us in a fizz                                                                and all the inaccuracies) ...and then i head off to hibernation           ferrying an idea that ' i have you now '            that   perhaps you were my enemy                                                           all this time and i am digesting the beast                       (what a feast !)
0
Sep 16, 2024
Sep 16, 2024 at 9:39 PM UTC
g u z z l e (devouring the beast)
. and your mug shot's shining through it's a vision true   (but the subject's taboo)               all             ugly               here morning sunshine    breakfast table    autumn cool you're poised to speak   a fly lands on your lolling spoon     then   i stand up merry                                       i make my vital move      the table backs away  distressed your eyes raise    i flop open my faminous mouth   and let the fumes draw in Surprise ! (no time for you to hold surplus breath -                              - form an expression - make any objection)               mechanism disjoints    like the raw riches i whip the plumb weight of my head   and strike mouth-chomp-grip   over your scalp and i am working you in with swift jaw shifts and hingery i **** on you with a smile and gullet                                         (past photos of you   shuffle glaucous before my inner eye) yap sock muscle   i operate   gumming on your head (ours was the world ; we got so lazy) budging in your hair   dampened by my saliva (our timid first meeting at a bar) and airway and my teeth softly folding back (us in bed-us in bed-us-in-bed)                                    and whole hog jaw agog (the tourist we made as a couple) i dilate and distend  crouch low to take your weight (the rise and falter of your sleeping chest) upend  your hands panic typing in the air         (the eyes of your investment in me) your feet flinging the heft back and forth        your shoulders break in and forward folding my chest cracks and wells                             (gifts we gave that touched heart and others that fell short) a complete engulfing meal of you                 (your childhood antidotes and teenage feelings we discussed) down my soft disposal                                      (all my memories of us in a fizz                                                                and all the inaccuracies) ...and then i head off to hibernation           ferrying an idea that ' i have you now '            that   perhaps you were my enemy                                                           all this time and i am digesting the beast                       (what a feast !)
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47
stop with all the yip and yap this is just rap, that i spit back from the back of a snapple cap then i told jack, he didnt know jack and flipped off a blackjack and throw it back in the stack for talking smack he got smacked like Pat Sayjack i'm spitting all writtens so these cats cant say jack i'm going Inn outlining lions lining furlongs longer than fur lining twisting tongues with twisted rythming my words and rythmes colliding with perfect timing haters slip and sliding like Poseidon riding down a slip-n-slide, end slipin-n- sliding two worlds collide-in line with the silver lining i'm in line with you online your outlining -- stop and rewind, end your mouse crawl -in, for you two view what i can do with rythmes so fly they caught the flew i got so many styles I thought you knew, i'm a trending topic, what else is new? i can flow for miles spit rivers too --
0
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 7:58 PM UTC
freestyle Jackbot
Yap yap yap goes the snap happy puppy he's one boisterous diminutive chap he leaps up barking and snapping and furiously his tail wagging He's little teeth are like needles ouch the little *** he's snapping at my fingers and I just got another nip I know he's only being playful but he never leaves you alone snap happy puppy you are a bad bad boy By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
0
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
Snap Happy Puppy
Across town, there’s no across. It’s just the town. The dogs being fed by master, master toys, Makes dogs bend, cower, quiver, then shoots dog Out of the bow. Dog gnaws air through gritted fangs, Finalizes his stupidity, gives up on his own self-confidence, And lets it roar with a hand up his *** The pigeons coo, cluck, **** fly, Coo, cluck, **** fly, Coo, cluck, **** fly. Foxes run around the yard chasing tails, Motives based in circles, Saving slowing down and puking for death as they Yap like pups. Master watches from a high gallery of Windexed windows so clean, That you can see master’s muscles tightening as master laughs. happiness and darkness. Cars, trains, automobiles, Flying machines, high ideas, fulfillment, Continuation, carbon and all things irrelevant, Master loves you. In town, Pop tells the kids he’s on his way, Mama shatters into a million brilliant pieces, And Grandad’s sigh comes out his mouth with the care of a habit. The kids are corralled into the basement to play, mess with each others genitals, and put on azalea dresses And heavy suits with black ties. With all the venom of moths They let their little mouths flutter in the dark, as Mama and Poppa hurl everything they can. Master gets drunk on equilibrium, High on acid, perks, dipped bud, Brushes teeth with alcohol And spits out his/her teeth in the morning. Way after the dogs were put to bed to tuck their tails in their legs, The foxes following suit, the pigeons in the middle of the mess, somewhere. Mom, Pop, Kids, Grandad, finished talking in low voices around 11:16 pm. As they shredded the charade, ashamed at all its pieces, Their mouths watered; I have no hope. Across town, it’s not a town, It’s a random house.
0
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 10:39 AM UTC
Across Town.
Across town, there’s no across. It’s just the town. The dogs being fed by master, master toys, Makes dogs bend, cower, quiver, then shoots dog Out of the bow. Dog gnaws air through gritted fangs, Finalizes his stupidity, gives up on his own self-confidence, And lets it roar with a hand up his *** The pigeons coo, cluck, **** fly, Coo, cluck, **** fly, Coo, cluck, **** fly. Foxes run around the yard chasing tails, Motives based in circles, Saving slowing down and puking for death as they Yap like pups. Master watches from a high gallery of Windexed windows so clean, That you can see master’s muscles tightening as master laughs. happiness and darkness. Cars, trains, automobiles, Flying machines, high ideas, fulfillment, Continuation, carbon and all things irrelevant, Master loves you. In town, Pop tells the kids he’s on his way, Mama shatters into a million brilliant pieces, And Grandad’s sigh comes out his mouth with the care of a habit. The kids are corralled into the basement to play, mess with each others genitals, and put on azalea dresses And heavy suits with black ties. With all the venom of moths They let their little mouths flutter in the dark, as Mama and Poppa hurl everything they can. Master gets drunk on equilibrium, High on acid, perks, dipped bud, Brushes teeth with alcohol And spits out his/her teeth in the morning. Way after the dogs were put to bed to tuck their tails in their legs, The foxes following suit, the pigeons in the middle of the mess, somewhere. Mom, Pop, Kids, Grandad, finished talking in low voices around 11:16 pm. As they shredded the charade, ashamed at all its pieces, Their mouths watered; I have no hope. Across town, it’s not a town, It’s a random house.
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41
I used to tell my mom I'm scared when the wolves came calling out back but really I was shy. was ashamed to admit all I wanted was to be one of them to slip into their paw prints feel the dewy night kissing my ears to lift my face to the wolf gods, their bodies reflecting my dark eyes I'd scrabble through the stale snow, run until my lungs were scorched I'd follow until they let me in to touch them feel them lick their cheeks, winding into their memories with a slightly steaming spool slowly spinning, ready to gobble them up and replace my own I'd yap and howl the way they do Leap; spine arched, into their midst and match their moon choked tones I'd want to be a mystery Have those feeble humans claim they know everything about me but really, they’d never even scratch the surface of the wolf who gleams like ivory of the wolf who streaks like fiery song pulsing through the snow I'd want to be the invisible; you know, that thing that’s watching you bending through the slip of trees the thing your eyes strain to find the thing you wait all night to see I want to have them look at me, the ones who think they found me first, I want the poets the artists and writers to look into my face and say how beautiful, those eyes how brave or fierce or wise and I would grin my wolfish grin bare my snarling teeth on cue ignore their stupid human stupor knowing what they never would that being a wolf is better than sitting alone inside waiting for them each night to lure me with their round raw voices their silver heart shaped faces their unforgiving bodies tensing tails whipping hammered paws sailing like white frost oceans the kings and queens searching for castles among the rabble rubble waves --Lily
0
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 5:54 PM UTC
Wolf Wishes
I used to tell my mom I'm scared when the wolves came calling out back but really I was shy. was ashamed to admit all I wanted was to be one of them to slip into their paw prints feel the dewy night kissing my ears to lift my face to the wolf gods, their bodies reflecting my dark eyes I'd scrabble through the stale snow, run until my lungs were scorched I'd follow until they let me in to touch them feel them lick their cheeks, winding into their memories with a slightly steaming spool slowly spinning, ready to gobble them up and replace my own I'd yap and howl the way they do Leap; spine arched, into their midst and match their moon choked tones I'd want to be a mystery Have those feeble humans claim they know everything about me but really, they’d never even scratch the surface of the wolf who gleams like ivory of the wolf who streaks like fiery song pulsing through the snow I'd want to be the invisible; you know, that thing that’s watching you bending through the slip of trees the thing your eyes strain to find the thing you wait all night to see I want to have them look at me, the ones who think they found me first, I want the poets the artists and writers to look into my face and say how beautiful, those eyes how brave or fierce or wise and I would grin my wolfish grin bare my snarling teeth on cue ignore their stupid human stupor knowing what they never would that being a wolf is better than sitting alone inside waiting for them each night to lure me with their round raw voices their silver heart shaped faces their unforgiving bodies tensing tails whipping hammered paws sailing like white frost oceans the kings and queens searching for castles among the rabble rubble waves --Lily
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64
Andrew Gn Probably the most prolific Singaporean designer, Gn graduated from the renowned Saint Martins School of Art and Design in London and the Domus Academy in Milan before joining Emanuel Ungaro in 1992. He launched his namesake label in 1996, establishing a fan base among the Parisian high society and A-list celebrities such as Jessica de Rothschild and Sarah Jessica Parker for his luxurious fabrics and exquisite embellishments. Gn was awarded the President’s Design Award in 2007 and is stocked in all the major continents, with his atelier based in the Le Marais district in Paris. Ashley Isham The other Singaporean high fashion designer to hit big time in the international circuit, Isham established his namesake label in London in 2000, and is a show fixture at London Fashion Week. The label is known for its sharp, contemporary tailoring and high-octane glamour, and is a hit among film, TV and music stars as well as British royalty. Aijek Self-taught designer Danelle Woo creates easy-breezy, ultra-feminine pieces in sustainable fabrics. Aijek is stocked at multi-label boutiques in China, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Indonesia, Latin America, the Middle East and the United States. Depression The neo-Gothic ready-to-wear label’s stark, minimalist designs are stocked in Hong Kong, Belgium, Japan and the U.S., and counts celebrities like Adam Lambert and The Black-Eyed Peas as fans. Sabrina Goh The feted Singaporean designer stocks her easy-to-wear pieces from her namesake label at multi-label boutiques in the United States, the Fred Segal store in Japan and a London-based online store Not Just A Label. Max Tan The avant-garde label features experimental silhouettes and a contemporary artistic flair, and is stocked in Europe, the Middle East, San Francisco and Taiwan. Benjamin Barker This stylish menswear brand founded by designer Nelson Yap in 2009 now has two stores in Melbourne and offers custom tailoring as well. It also offers shipping to Australia and New Zealand via its website BenjaminBarker.co. . In Good Company The well-loved minimalist label with unusual silhouettes fronted by designers Sven Tan and Kane Tan is stocked in Hong Kong at Kapok, at various departmental stores in Jakarta, Indonesia, including Sogo, Seibu and Galleries Lafayette Jakarta and in New York’s Saks Fifth Avenue.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane
0
Aug 19, 2016
Aug 19, 2016 at 12:23 AM UTC
8 Singaporean designers who are also flying the flag high overseas
Andrew Gn Probably the most prolific Singaporean designer, Gn graduated from the renowned Saint Martins School of Art and Design in London and the Domus Academy in Milan before joining Emanuel Ungaro in 1992. He launched his namesake label in 1996, establishing a fan base among the Parisian high society and A-list celebrities such as Jessica de Rothschild and Sarah Jessica Parker for his luxurious fabrics and exquisite embellishments. Gn was awarded the President’s Design Award in 2007 and is stocked in all the major continents, with his atelier based in the Le Marais district in Paris. Ashley Isham The other Singaporean high fashion designer to hit big time in the international circuit, Isham established his namesake label in London in 2000, and is a show fixture at London Fashion Week. The label is known for its sharp, contemporary tailoring and high-octane glamour, and is a hit among film, TV and music stars as well as British royalty. Aijek Self-taught designer Danelle Woo creates easy-breezy, ultra-feminine pieces in sustainable fabrics. Aijek is stocked at multi-label boutiques in China, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Indonesia, Latin America, the Middle East and the United States. Depression The neo-Gothic ready-to-wear label’s stark, minimalist designs are stocked in Hong Kong, Belgium, Japan and the U.S., and counts celebrities like Adam Lambert and The Black-Eyed Peas as fans. Sabrina Goh The feted Singaporean designer stocks her easy-to-wear pieces from her namesake label at multi-label boutiques in the United States, the Fred Segal store in Japan and a London-based online store Not Just A Label. Max Tan The avant-garde label features experimental silhouettes and a contemporary artistic flair, and is stocked in Europe, the Middle East, San Francisco and Taiwan. Benjamin Barker This stylish menswear brand founded by designer Nelson Yap in 2009 now has two stores in Melbourne and offers custom tailoring as well. It also offers shipping to Australia and New Zealand via its website BenjaminBarker.co. . In Good Company The well-loved minimalist label with unusual silhouettes fronted by designers Sven Tan and Kane Tan is stocked in Hong Kong at Kapok, at various departmental stores in Jakarta, Indonesia, including Sogo, Seibu and Galleries Lafayette Jakarta and in New York’s Saks Fifth Avenue.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney | www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane
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16
I somehow feel that life isn’t real. There are fragments, I see them separate from one another – Yet they’re all so obviously intertwined. Apart apart apart. Everything is set apart. Connected yet not. Perhaps a tree has fallen across the lines? Its blocking the signal. Interrupting the charge Yet at the other end people still hear it- Oh they hear it alright. But it was passed on without my knowledge. Passed on without any inkling, or desire, from my part. And the effects are there - Perhaps a spark jumped across just as the tree came crashing down? Perhaps. The other end heard the call. They heard and they picked up. They responded accordingly. So when I stumble in, ready to deliver the news - Or not deliver, to dance around the subject- They grin and say “oh, we knew all along! Did you think that we’d approve?” Shocked, I stammer, pretend it’s fine As though there was nothing wrong with that line They giggle behind their hands in evil glee And proceed to talk of someone other than ME “Did you know; SHE’s pregnant?!!” They haply yap, Merrily waving at the poor chap. So apart - yet so close! The parts of my world intertwine And sadly I glance around As their mouths flap and fingers waggle Oh! What marvellous company I have found!
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Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 6:44 AM UTC
Gossip
a bird naps on naked car parts dogs bark, yap, and yowl under a Toyota orange lucifer rust gleams in a stack of smashed steel rods
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Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 6:23 AM UTC
the stick yard
Just yapping away; claver, clack, waffle, chunter, off at the mouth; yap yap yap yap! Bla!, bl!, bl!, Blar! B~blar! Let's shut our mouths, and stop pretending and drown the blather with cups of tea!
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Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
Idle chitchat.
tiger, he was, could not honestly, tell you the breed... he was a mispent afternoon's produce.... but by the stock of his body and the smile on his face some one's prize corgi, was now in disgrace... allways a smile and a little yip-yap... he was my childhood, of running and jumping, just because, we could. the picking of blackberries, the finding of mushrooms, wandering along creeks and afternoon naps, with his soft furriness, under my palm.... mottled through, ginger and blue, with an under-carriage, supposedly white, but more often muddy or dustily brown.... a co-conspirator of the highest degree.... would sit under the table and eat pumpkin for me. but not the beans.... they made him smell... his tongue so long and pink, his ears ***** and mobile, tail was docked, but his *** it did wag, with such a unique style. he was my childhood, but then, he was gone... off to chase rabbits up on the farm... good boy tiger....good boy you where my protector with you i came to no harm...
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
tiger(challenge # 2)
woof woof woof went the doggy woof woof woof in me head woof woof woof went the doggy sweepy let me sleep i must be dead bark bark bark hear the woofer bark bark bark hear the growl bark bark bark hear the woofer sweepy stop that racket stop it now slob slob slob in me lug hole slob slob slob hear it now slob slob slob in me lug hole sweepy what the hell ..I'll let you out bark bark bark hear the woofer bark bark bark hear the growl bark bark bark hear the woofer sweepy stop that racket stop it now yap yap yap is it dinner yap yap yap no not now yap yap yap is it dinner sweepy go to sleep its 3 am bark bark bark hear the woofer bark bark bark hear the growl bark bark bark hear the woofer sweepy stop that racket stop it now
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Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 12:29 AM UTC
Our woofer
Dames dimeless during durations of duress, unless  uniform wardrobes in cuneiform earlobes eloping in last gasps of breath, breathed by an opposite ***  on a raft drafted and crafted by bureaucrats that sat upon rat traps. The fat cats gasp under last laughs. They can yap about the fallen all day and paid based on grades in a vicious cycle of buy - sell - trade. They caved in as Persians sigh at the fading world hurled beneath convuluted swirls of black pearls.
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
Of Black Pearls
Huffah! Rise up! Today a new day So glamorous So grand and gay That each passing of tree frogs shall Slither Spoil and spit My naked toes never touch ground Or do they? My flitting flee turns heads around Upside-down I bemuse continually Continue to follow through Weightless in flight In plight Black-tailed hawks soar shrivingly with might I gather and twirl and spill Arms afloat and fingers outstretched I greet the world Hello! Lovely lures linger in my spine Ascend to my neck only to Explode with confetti out of my ramby ringing ears Explode with laughter! Such yippity yap cannot view Such vague heights They don't catch me I spill thrice with slender legs ahooved We all come crashing down I give a smile Take a frown Such grace and beauty An epiphany to some An engagement to all Bliss meets ground in the fall It rains colors Tickling tiny eyelashes Clickety-click I blink! Oh woe! How my soreness traps all reds! Shades of yellow Shades of gold orange brown Teet and totter Only to divide and conquer My fellow Autumn leaves as Autumn comes For I make no rule away Grass grasps and clings Leaves no trace but in my hair How it curls and shines with flings! I lick the sweetness of blue Gumdrops begone I beg of you Clamber to my lips I kiss the sweetness in pips Of more than two
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Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 7:21 PM UTC
Blissful Ramble
Substance. Heft. volume and mass. Volume without value. Being light in the *** Barking without teeth. Gravitas. Bite. weight and kick. All talk.All yap all ***** No **** Mutha-fuckas today are sick with it. A man's word is nothing but air. Lie to your face as if that is a virtue. Get stuff all distorted as they twist you and hurt you. Microphone checker. No I'm not really mad. Just stretching out. Anyway,back to the grind. With your feelings these fellows are quite cavalier as they muddy the waters and make things unclear. Word is bond. Really like James Bond? WORD ?. My word is my bond. We can trade on it. My word is my life. The one thing you cant have. Meaning and substance. Values and core. Fools take that today like a license to steal. A big Lollipop a sucker Who dont know the deal. Veracity. Virtue. brings Vindication always.
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Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 1:38 AM UTC
Grits Aint Groceries
I still get my news from my hometown. And I do not respond to my new friends. And I cursed November when he came. And I told myself my existence was feeble. And I got all the movie quotes wrong. And I was coughing all the **** time, craggy inhales and spittle in my tea. They were all phonies then. Except the boy I met who ended every sentence with "I don't really know," so everything he said could be true. And I was running all the time in my sleep, then. And ******* too. And the same boy was always in my dreams - but not the right boy - the boy who was important to me only ever in sleep. But dreams seemed important then, too. Oh, I remember! 5 a.m. when I yanked you out of bed, come, I am going MAD! (you were going mad, too, just last week.) The fog was not rising at all      chain smoking in respect to my lungs      and their strike on air      my strike on a way of living whose sole purpose was      to stay alive longer      what's all the yap about? I was not sure I wanted to live      you kept on talking about dogs. I do not want to live      you started talking about cars! I have death in my fingertips, you fool! You supposed heaven was real      and I thought over what I had heard:      heaven is all around us      (yes, we were in a cloud.) And I supposed you were right      but I kept silent,      I could not put my world on you      and its godlessness. There was a green flashing light on the other side of Cincinnati      but you did not understand that reference yet. But we counted all the      churches and rainy cars They couldn't grasp at God either. Godlessness!      it will make us all mad, then. but it was science who spelt of protons and electrons; and when I am GOOD      he shows me his twisted, gnarled little black heart. and when he, angelic, comes--      I am the Darkness. We supposed this was how God talks, anyways. And the sun curled up again we drank coffee      in bad lighting      over silence      the insanity      soggy waffles night shakes leaving me and... It took you hours to respond! Grappling with insanity for hours!      the kinds in wavelengths      static      feeble      hours      glowering hunched electric clock in the corner      cracked windows      pane I could not stop thinking over forgiveness      and if I forgave my father for forgetting my birthday      nine years ago      so mundane. And if it mattered anymore And if I forgave God And if I would ever apologize to Him      there was a green flashing light in my baptismal basin, too. I do not call myself Gatsby anymore.
0
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
Bellevue
I still get my news from my hometown. And I do not respond to my new friends. And I cursed November when he came. And I told myself my existence was feeble. And I got all the movie quotes wrong. And I was coughing all the **** time, craggy inhales and spittle in my tea. They were all phonies then. Except the boy I met who ended every sentence with "I don't really know," so everything he said could be true. And I was running all the time in my sleep, then. And ******* too. And the same boy was always in my dreams - but not the right boy - the boy who was important to me only ever in sleep. But dreams seemed important then, too. Oh, I remember! 5 a.m. when I yanked you out of bed, come, I am going MAD! (you were going mad, too, just last week.) The fog was not rising at all      chain smoking in respect to my lungs      and their strike on air      my strike on a way of living whose sole purpose was      to stay alive longer      what's all the yap about? I was not sure I wanted to live      you kept on talking about dogs. I do not want to live      you started talking about cars! I have death in my fingertips, you fool! You supposed heaven was real      and I thought over what I had heard:      heaven is all around us      (yes, we were in a cloud.) And I supposed you were right      but I kept silent,      I could not put my world on you      and its godlessness. There was a green flashing light on the other side of Cincinnati      but you did not understand that reference yet. But we counted all the      churches and rainy cars They couldn't grasp at God either. Godlessness!      it will make us all mad, then. but it was science who spelt of protons and electrons; and when I am GOOD      he shows me his twisted, gnarled little black heart. and when he, angelic, comes--      I am the Darkness. We supposed this was how God talks, anyways. And the sun curled up again we drank coffee      in bad lighting      over silence      the insanity      soggy waffles night shakes leaving me and... It took you hours to respond! Grappling with insanity for hours!      the kinds in wavelengths      static      feeble      hours      glowering hunched electric clock in the corner      cracked windows      pane I could not stop thinking over forgiveness      and if I forgave my father for forgetting my birthday      nine years ago      so mundane. And if it mattered anymore And if I forgave God And if I would ever apologize to Him      there was a green flashing light in my baptismal basin, too. I do not call myself Gatsby anymore.
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81
He’s like a ham actor Who has only one goal To see himself in The starring role. Talent doesn’t matter As long as he is zealous. If he bombs it’s because Everyone else is jealous. He goes flap, flap his yap But be careful, it’s a trap. He loves to holler up a storm. But has no talent to perform. He thinks he is a superstar Just waiting to be crowned. Others say behind his back He’s nothing but a clown. All he needs is a big red nose And he’s working hard on that. He thinks he’s the big **** But really, he’s just a pratt. He goes moan, moan and groan But leave him totally alone And while he swears he is fine He will fail to remember his lines. All the world is a stage, it’s true So politics is like theater, too. And this poor clown with big feet Tries to deliver his speeches sweet But his lies trip him in the last scene. He ends up looking false and mean. He lies and lies his lullabies And tries to act so famously wise. But he only fools the less than bright. The rest know he’s just not right.
0
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 1:57 PM UTC
PUFFALUMP POLITICIAN