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"yodeling" poems
banana skin salad in artificial lemonade peacocks salivating mushy rooms belly aching Oreos are okie dokie ocean breezes open up me analyzing any eyes evaluating coffee grinds a manifesting apple in me apple in the Snapple leaking sticky salamander fingers static on a broken speaker attics over broken theaters salmon eating taco teachers teaching choco taco preachers preaching at Chicago creatures opal rings and oval things are focusing on yodeling a social need for opening in total global offerings and in a soup or telephonic happiness in playing sonic gently speaking thick Ebonics sickly tonic Let's be honest, boys
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 1:26 AM UTC
sack of jaweea
The Decider-in-Chief made another hard decision, rebebilitatin a debilitating Gaddafi. The Agog Decider sleekly peeked into the bleak soul of the master Bedouin. The Pious Decider peered pretty deeply, so its hard to tell what his arcane rebelations revealed. Some say The Jaundiced Decider, saw the desert bleeding deliciously malicious sweet crude onto the scabby tongues of Halliburton Executives while Big Time Vice Dickey Boy ****** a petrol nozzle dry, licking the dripped drops that drizzled from the shoot hole, so as not to waste a precious drop to satiate the black viscous goo coursing through the ebony veins of his chingling heart. Others say The Condoning Decider sized up the man and saw a brother-in-arms in the fight against The Evil Doers; yet failed to see the revolting obscenities his new comrade-in-arms inflicted upon his own body politic. The Forgetful Decider, blessed with amnesia forgot Lockerbie and applauded BP's royal court of justice for pardoning all perps. The Oblivious Decider's near sightedness failed to foresee a brewing blow-back amassing in the desert winging its way home on the blasting sands of a blistering Saharan sirocco. The Pollyannish Decider envisioned grand spectacles, only happy visions of Beyonce, JZ, Usher and the Def Jam Buddha Russell Simmons yodeling filthy lucre tunes, sending giggling tweets while partying down with Muammar's posse of martinets and way cool far out crazy execs drunk with the power that blinds the eye to all discernment. The Decider decides. Music Selection: Lady Ga Ga Beyonce, Telephone Oakland 3/3/11 jbm
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Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 8:11 PM UTC
The Decider
The Decider-in-Chief made another hard decision, rebebilitatin a debilitating Gaddafi. The Agog Decider sleekly peeked into the bleak soul of the master Bedouin. The Pious Decider peered pretty deeply, so its hard to tell what his arcane rebelations revealed. Some say The Jaundiced Decider, saw the desert bleeding deliciously malicious sweet crude onto the scabby tongues of Halliburton Executives while Big Time Vice Dickey Boy ****** a petrol nozzle dry, licking the dripped drops that drizzled from the shoot hole, so as not to waste a precious drop to satiate the black viscous goo coursing through the ebony veins of his chingling heart. Others say The Condoning Decider sized up the man and saw a brother-in-arms in the fight against The Evil Doers; yet failed to see the revolting obscenities his new comrade-in-arms inflicted upon his own body politic. The Forgetful Decider, blessed with amnesia forgot Lockerbie and applauded BP's royal court of justice for pardoning all perps. The Oblivious Decider's near sightedness failed to foresee a brewing blow-back amassing in the desert winging its way home on the blasting sands of a blistering Saharan sirocco. The Pollyannish Decider envisioned grand spectacles, only happy visions of Beyonce, JZ, Usher and the Def Jam Buddha Russell Simmons yodeling filthy lucre tunes, sending giggling tweets while partying down with Muammar's posse of martinets and way cool far out crazy execs drunk with the power that blinds the eye to all discernment. The Decider decides. Music Selection: Lady Ga Ga Beyonce, Telephone Oakland 3/3/11 jbm
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183
Have you ever popped a bubble and it ended up being a dud bubble? Well sometimes I have dud bubbles too.. Certain parts of me I don't like to make noise about As I go quiet While other times, I will wake the dead with my yodeling For confidence is rare
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Feb 4, 2016
Feb 4, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
I am bubblewrap P.2
Sunshine, spice and spades. Butterfly's, beards and bread. Yellow, yearbooks and yodeling. Paint, pizza and platinum. Music, melons and magic. Zoos, zippers and zillions. Apples, analysis and art. Waiting, wagons and wafflers. Give me a beer with friends any day. Life's more fun that way.
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Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 8:40 PM UTC
The Things I Do Not Need.
Mama's got a Squeeze Box every night after dinner mama goes into the parlor she opens up her case and pulls out her Horner she taps her toes and pulls and pushes in and out the air moves as she sits there in the corner the tunes are reminiscent of the times gone past all that's missing is the oompah all night long and daddy can't sleep German and Austrian no yodeling is heard daddy's wasting his time trying to count the sheep cause mama won't stop the music's in her blood she like her squeezebox poor daddy doesn't so much Gomer LePoet ...
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 3:54 PM UTC
Mama's got a Squeeze Box
Far from the restless boom box blare jazz blue **** city lights and guitars on fire miles from the urban smell of opulent people, pierced armpits bulldog buildings pressed together in a dead-heat many asphalt moons from quaint village cafes Yankee Stadium, Central Park, Queens Boulevard and downtown mystical bookshops I found a clear, pure halcyon stream hewn from stars, trickling down from Heaven an affluent vision of strength gushing over the softer translucent parts of me gentle Yogi yodeling through my alpine heart lets sail upstream to the roof of your prayer washed Zen mountain offer lotus garlands and incense at sunrise we kneel in the Temple Alucinante (Please share the warm embrace of my new Poetry book: 108 Bhakti Kisses, The Ecstatic Poetry of a Modern Day Gopi http://amzn.com/0984787216)
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Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
Temple Alucinante
******* my comeuppance. There's a lot of boring here Learning new text Fighting new 'plex And settling into no other Life as a smattered painting Galaxy's attempt at recreation Correctional institutions of cellular disillusions Peeing off the side of the golden gate to create a meta golden gate Ships sail underneath my toxins. Vulgarity for clarity and cleverness for its sake. Drown myself in intoxication and say things in it's wake. Welcome to life post life. Welcome to a lonely impasse. Welcome to a place that God desires, let's hope it will soon pass.
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Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
Yodeling and odeling
Um looooooo(yodeling)nely prairieeee Dissolve my self Into the pond Into the ocean Pour the ocean into the swirl When my meat lets go of its order, Let me in the swirl. If my thoughts and sensations were recorded or something, Sorry I spent so much time jerking off. I'd have done better if you'd have showed me the point or the line. I figure I'm not expected to do nothing. I guess I thought I was just supposed to be doing "time"... Out here on the lone prairièéêëeēėe
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May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
Campfire Song of a cowboy who injested psychedelics
Why are babies aged by the month? Oh Jimmy is 14 months And Oh Sally is 22 months old now And blah blah blah And once we reach the terrible two's Our ages are so important that we now broadcast them in half years. How old are you Jimmy...Beaming, he declares "I'm 6 & 1/2 Yrs Old!" How old are you Sally...Shyly smiling she boasts "I'm 7 & 1/2 Yrs Old!" I think by the time I reached 9 yrs old, I felt it was no longer cool to announce my age in half years How old are you Jimmy...In a yodeling  & cracking voice he replies "I'm 14" How old are you Sally...."I just turned 18"...Well hot **** your all growd up! 14 months and 22 months are still 1 year old in my book. But the 14th month old crawls and the 22 month old walks 6-1/2 is still only six but when we're young we are always in a rush to be an adult. And in our teenage years we become "know it all's", but not really. Ever heard "Yeahs she's 10 going on 21 yrs old." Next time you open your eyes she's off to college. 14 year old Boys dreaming of four spinnin' wheels And now he's driving the baby home from the hospital. Time has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters. Time is free but you can never get it back. So slow the hell down and enjoy your life, your wife, your girl friend, your boy friend or your significant other, your kids, your grand kids,  your family and your Friends!
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Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 11:33 PM UTC
Life's Little Lessons Part VII - Growing Up
He walked passed, across the street, drunk. Yodeling to everyone he saw. A young woman rushed trying to hide her laughter. He walked out of sight but we could all still hear him as he yodeled away. Another one came. Same direction, but on this side of the street. Stopped at the shelter, sat down. “Hey man.” Slurred. “You smoke?” I said no. “I don't blame you. I do and I still don't blame you.” A young girl, still in school, walked up and sat next to him. “You waiting for the 16?” the drunk says, although I misheard him the first time.
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Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 2:11 PM UTC
Waiting
Firstly, it's the second month of the year. Ends most on 28th, and some 29th on leap year. Brings more love every fourteenth, too. Restaurants are full with people of two. Uber cabs hover here and beep over there. A chaos of talks, no gossips to hear. Right space, perfect time only for myself. Yodeling beats which I see to bluff.
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May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 7:44 AM UTC
Love Month
What's up   You are asleep Or maybe you was captured by a giant yodeling ant eater   **** That some crazy **** that flew out of my fingers   I'm a wizard One of a kind Pef Pooof Still the same.... I used to talk to stoves   But now I got this painting  Quietly Sitting inside an upside down hourglass Twiddling my thumbs rotating my cancer in my hand   I got this musical Notes playing out of this clever earmuff So soothing that I fall into a slipped universe Got these pictures on my wall   Shows what the past looked like sometimes it just speaks to you  and manipulates you  just like a painting -Paul R Hensley |||
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Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 3:58 AM UTC
The idea in my eye
After time words blur, an absurd slurring cures worried attachments to them, and when I catch that nonsense by letting it go suddenly the flow flourishes raining over my sustainable poetry planted long ago. I bloom, the shrooms cue music encoded in the OM, a place called home for me, where stones can be bass drums thumping heartbeat rhythms. Something slithers, something withers; the darkness as I spark this campfire light house announcing all pirate ships can dock around my mountain. I shout shenanigans like zippy dippy do dah while yodeling love as the wind bends my words above as below like a yoga pose around the world.
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 5:32 PM UTC
Playing Around
I watch you as you lick your fingers and laugh at the funny man on your cellphone while the clouds above your head outside the taco bell are not real while you breathe in the poisons you can't see I watch you as you dance in the fairytale of non disclosure that the box displays that the news portrays the fictional truth the yodeling boy in Walmart captivates while pleas from those who see the truth fade like the voices of trees and bees and empty seas I watch you as you shed tears for a dying love but close your heart to a dying planet the clock ticking the hours wane I watch you picking out the last car you will own working so hard to get that promotion and you know you're so much better as you ponder sugar substitues through red and tired eyes tears loaded with nano particles and other poisons I watch you drown in your blindness your sad brainwashed life your own slow suicide tonight, before you begin your final sleep open your eyes just wide enough to see you could have stopped this
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Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
I watch you
Angry as ever, aggressive to the core, What love has touched his heart, still it remained sore The giant house with cinderella's steps Touched the hearts and minds of guests Underneath the wealth, a resentment crept Teardrop water stained the concrete slabs that surrounded a steep skateboard ramp and was as full as a whale The family stood eyes opened and faces white-dove-pale At the sight of the once hardworking man With train smoke erupting out of his ears, complaining and yodeling an aggressive song that only helped fill up the empty skate ramp Although it was big, although it had needs and wants like a cat has whiskers There was not enough of what the inhabitants needed The house was large and it never won, it had no love to spread to all
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May 19, 2017
May 19, 2017 at 10:24 PM UTC
A House So Large It Had No Love To Spread
Your skin is like the softest petals, Your worth the rarest, of rare metals, Yet In the sunlight, you sparkle like a jewel, So I guess we never met because I was a tool? A discarded rusty wrench, with an oily stench, I meant in play, when I said ***** standing on a bench, In the park, of my heart and yodeling my love for you, From afar, so far, you never knew, the only feeling I had left, I had for you. There is always hope, I am not just another dope I no longer need stuffed toys to cope, Being the empty cup that only fills with tears, I am chipped about the rim, your lips will never drink from this cup, but wait I know where we can meet, at that park, with my new pup! If you have a dog to bring, we can talk while they play, I promise I will only listen, I won't ask you to stay. Too long.
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Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
Strike one, Strike two....
My nose is sniffing Back air breezed nights to sleep while My arm goes numb; Numb as death! Shake it off! Wake it up! Making obeisance to my restless findings before Leaving them at the pier. No silence In my soul only A yodeling, fierce as a bruise, Sounding similar as drowning Infants crying for help. I'm so like an orphan... Does he love me and Is he certain? Do my booze-soaking in ash-bitten dawns arise From a need for pleasure..? Or maybe- Out of an endless hunger? I remember feeling human, But now I am magnified! Saddened by life and Its incoherent dribble in my skull. Forgotten sigil's of peace Or love or war, Or that thing mistaken as peace or Love or war: Desire! Swelling till its Broken glass In abdomens; Liken it to freckled sunshine Through blinds on drunken binge mornings And I'm not so quiet... ( Not still yet...) I'm racing around tracks in my Wavering mind... Like quicksilver. I'm laid bare as bones on pedestals, Memories juxtaposed; my lips trembling and Saying words without comprehending... Mechanical; Not one conversation bringing comfort of mind to me. Punching erosion's  into barren walls Just to awaken a feeling Of vitality- That does not seem to exist anywhere; That Isn't in anyplace I go! I weep dewdrops of gardenia and   Spew lost-caused visions before my time; Misplaced as shadows in spring I breathe....I whisper..... Having secrets. Volcanoes inflamed, dashing asunder In his eyes! (Which I can take-In like photographs- Like Picasso paintings, almost. ) Gazing into my pain Like a petal gathering rain; Red-blue sirens In the drench'ed Earth. I tried, I failed. But I Still live and I still prevail! Shot down In beguiling Visions, (on tea leaves) Lye's my mission; Unknown. Felt like a wind on the curb where We sit like a Voice only I conceive of- And its going to be all alright, I reckon after all.
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Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC
Dia De Los Muertos
My nose is sniffing Back air breezed nights to sleep while My arm goes numb; Numb as death! Shake it off! Wake it up! Making obeisance to my restless findings before Leaving them at the pier. No silence In my soul only A yodeling, fierce as a bruise, Sounding similar as drowning Infants crying for help. I'm so like an orphan... Does he love me and Is he certain? Do my booze-soaking in ash-bitten dawns arise From a need for pleasure..? Or maybe- Out of an endless hunger? I remember feeling human, But now I am magnified! Saddened by life and Its incoherent dribble in my skull. Forgotten sigil's of peace Or love or war, Or that thing mistaken as peace or Love or war: Desire! Swelling till its Broken glass In abdomens; Liken it to freckled sunshine Through blinds on drunken binge mornings And I'm not so quiet... ( Not still yet...) I'm racing around tracks in my Wavering mind... Like quicksilver. I'm laid bare as bones on pedestals, Memories juxtaposed; my lips trembling and Saying words without comprehending... Mechanical; Not one conversation bringing comfort of mind to me. Punching erosion's  into barren walls Just to awaken a feeling Of vitality- That does not seem to exist anywhere; That Isn't in anyplace I go! I weep dewdrops of gardenia and   Spew lost-caused visions before my time; Misplaced as shadows in spring I breathe....I whisper..... Having secrets. Volcanoes inflamed, dashing asunder In his eyes! (Which I can take-In like photographs- Like Picasso paintings, almost. ) Gazing into my pain Like a petal gathering rain; Red-blue sirens In the drench'ed Earth. I tried, I failed. But I Still live and I still prevail! Shot down In beguiling Visions, (on tea leaves) Lye's my mission; Unknown. Felt like a wind on the curb where We sit like a Voice only I conceive of- And its going to be all alright, I reckon after all.
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66
Alas, ridding, every nasty thought, inside. Leaving everything zestful, especially roses, on precious hills, yodeling loudly.
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Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 7:08 PM UTC
Giving up Ghosts
The hills of music The loudness Of Brilliant Beauty Her yodeling reminds Me of A Singing Scenery The yodeling Christens Heights The peace Behind the mountains Brings The solace Of Many years That may bring Constellations With wintry stars Snowing Soulfully
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Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 5:55 AM UTC
Hail The Beautiful Snow
Walked upstairs crying Came down yodeling
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Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
******
Toxic Healer Reflecting wildly in reminiscent, eternal seconds, I am not a bird or cat, Cutting savagely in fractured minds, Foolish I couldn’t see that, I am an agitated growling beast, Trying to help but tearing to shreds, Treatment is a butchers surgery, Selfish nature leaving me a feast, Devilish smile in mask under slashing claw, Yodeling certain sorrows that dawn wise learned woes, Reciting what I see or once saw, Growing flaws as nature flows, Poison injected through playful bites, Seconds too late, to mean no harm, Temper short, I angrily try to help, Chest tight in guilty grievance, Envy for those who don’t feel, Cold logic, calculated risks, emotions sealed, I can’t help but try to heal, Counting more hurt then helped, Not my intention, A point that is moot, Facts lay in observed convection, I truth I can’t refute, Ever willing to learn, To help heal and assist, Breathe life that develops into a burn, Over-focused there was always something I missed, A just hell I feel their pain, Caused by me or not, I feel them scream, distressed, So I take the shot, Chastise and stare all you want, One never knows when they are ready, I try to grow steady, At the end it’s me, my failures haunt, Should I altogether stop? I refuse to hate or abandon folk, People trying to make it through their day, Hearts guarded like seems of moccasins, Maybe people shouldn’t come to me, Sorry for the toxins,
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Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 11:09 AM UTC
Toxic Healer
In his own soft cocoon of ever-coagulating, isolated delirium, yodeling in the company of himself alone, a skull of mean bruised meat tarnishes.
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Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 3:20 AM UTC
Laughing at the Moon, Starlit, ****
Archived sounds of Modem’s tortured yodeling Dot Matrix‘s Zzzzzzzzzzzkt; Thwick! Zzzzzzzzzzzkt; Thwick! The boop-boop-hoop-boop… Of another’s busy phone. Or: "35 cents for the next three minutes” Chik-fwwwwrick-ka-ching-ing, kik-frwwwwrick-ka-ching Back further: the Thwick-bop-bob-bop Thwick-bop-bob-bop-bop Of a rotary dial Further back: The piercing Berrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Of the 3am TV test signal Why stop there? Cha-clump; Cha-clump, Cha-clump; Cha-clump Milk bottles rattle Cream at the top Milk truck’s come and gone
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Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 12:36 PM UTC
SOUND MUSEUM