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Happy Father's DayI'll never tell you he was a monster
He was just a man
Who could fault him for that
He was never made to love
And he was never made to live long
Existing as an oppositional force
Pouring white salt on the wounds
And kicking dust in the eyes
Roaming late at night
And twisting in and out of memories
An apparition of a godlike figure
The man behind the curtain
Pulling levers to navigate childhood nightmares
Getting sucked under trains and leaving everything behind
Mothers, daughters, friends
Your absence is relief and pain in one breath
Happy Father's Day
LETTING GOThere's a lot of pain being wrapped up in you
It stings deep and boils inside my chest
I remember you in those moments before sleep
Dreaming there would be better days
And that those days would be full of you
Yours eyes said you dreamed the same
even if your smoky words wouldn't admit it
That closeness we shared, nose to nose
Isn't an everyday sort of thing
I won't say I'm obsessed, distressed
But I will say that I kinda loved you
And so I'll let you go
I WANT TO HELP MY BABYPurple and pink bows hanging on my lymph nodes
I try to blow my nose
And all that comes out are freshly ironed clothes
Hazy daisies singing out the maybe's
Listening to the couch sing hymns about Tracy
Yes I got a fast car
So get us out of here
You said you had a plan, but first you gotta
Deal with your old man.
You're drinking for two
And you've got nothing to lose
Nothing to prove
Shapes of my face show how long I'll live-ia
According to an old lady from Bolivia
Turn me around and take me down town
I'll teach you some more trivia
Just get me some more tea
THE SEAWe can twist in the sea
Salt and foam mixing in our fears
The sun licking off our tears
Just you and me
Sailing for hours forever
Building an empire of awkward glances
Some quiet romances
Or I could find you on the pier
Counting down the years
When you and I first met
In your arms
Warming my bones
This is my home
Memories as precious as a pearl
Your heartbeat the waves crashing
Give me a distance smile
Hand in mine and so many things to say
My brain giving way
I forget, fragments of moments I wanted gone
I'll weave them into a song
And if you put your ear to the shell
You can hear it
The SquidThere was once this giant squid that lived in an old lady's aquarium for four years. He was dead inside because he had dreamed of becoming an actor at the age of 3. He was four then and felt like since he missed his chance, he'd never act again. He'd swim around and cry all day and night and eat snails straight from the garden because he had really long tentacles.
LISTEN TO THIS, after he ate a bunch of the snails, the old lady had had enough of the carnage since she was a vegetarian and only ate grass. She threw the squid out and told him to get a job by Monday or she wouldn't take him back. Well, what was he supposed to do? So he did the only thing a squid can do in a tight pickle. He ate her alive. That is just nature. He ate her whole, too, with no breaks. He had had enough also. The only thing he didn't eat were her shining pearls her grand-nephew had gotten her for her two-hundred and thirty-fourth birthday.
The squid was a monster but he wasn't a monster. Eating some
TREASUREI am golden starlight trapped under the skin
Hovering around the corners of your eyes
Seen the sun shimmering by and by
Twisting around your spine
I love the sound
Tinkling shining flying
Whispers and laughter
Dusting the outsides
And sinking into
Deeper and darker
With visions of treasures
Hidden and curling like smoke
ZIONHeading toward Zion I saw a man
Scraggly and old
An apparition of strength
A ghost of his youth
He called me over to the side of the road
His breath smelled like honey and mold
Toothless grin, he said he had a cure
For dust covered lungs and fissured skulls
For hopeless dreams and hearts caked in doubt
I didn't believe the airy way he talked
Every word a whisper, and every syllable dark
But I listened because I was headed toward Zion
Toward home and toward promise
He gave me three wishes trapped in three goats
I had to lead them to pasture he said
So that they would grow
I took the task gladly, seeing as I was a shepherd
For his own flock
He was tired then and died then
I covered him in silk and put stones on his eyes
So that in case he did rise
He wouldn't see he wasn't there
I led the goats behind me
On back toward Zion
They could pasture there
And give me my three wishes
When they were ready of course
These things take time
Dear Adventurer or To Skyrim with LoveDear Adventurer,
If you are reading this then that means you are alive unless you are a ghost and I assume that you are not unlike me in the ways of adventuring and taking spoils for yourself. You have come upon me at a most indecent time. For I am dead, or I believe I am by the time anyone reaches me. If you can save me, though, that would be most helpful to me. There is a lot of blood.
Anyhow, I am writing this to warn you of the trials ahead in this horrible dungeon. I understand that there is something of great value at the end but the path there will not be an easy one. For I know this myself as I tried to reach the end myself but then decided against it and tried to turn back.
That was my undoing or is my undoing. I'm not dead yet. Or am I? Well, if I am indecent when you arrive, will you at least make me presentable? I don't mean touch up my war paint or anything but you could wipe my mouth of any blood or vomit? I would greatly appreciate such a notion of camaraderie.
Detective Le Cactus: IIDetective Le Cactus: II
There was an eerie feeling to the abandoned factory as Le Cactus pulled up in the cruiser, followed by the Grape squad in their wagon that was being pulled by Spinach.
Le Cactus looked over his sunglasses at the place, taking in the tulip-py aroma. "Let's do this " he whispered to no one in particular unless there was a ghost in the car and then it was to the ghost but since ghosts are usually invisible I'll say to no one in particular.
With the cruiser parked, Le Cactus slowly made his way toward the factory, followed by the Grape squad with weapons drawn as well. Spinach stayed by the cruiser in case back up was needed he could call for help on his plant cellphone.
Scanning the area, there was nothing seen but instead heard. Le Cactus heard a cruel laugh erupt from inside. Motioning for the Grape squad to hold position, Le Cactus crept closer, pressing himself against the wall by the opening.
"That dumb broad! Haha! The look on her face was pr
mini fic - Mariand visita al psicologo una tarde en el consultorio de psicologia...
Doctor: toma asiento y siéntate por favor
Doctor: ¿como te llamas?
Doctor: ¿mariand que?
M: ¡que pepinos le importa!
Doctor: bueno, ¿que te trae por aquí?
M: mis amigas me obligaron sobre mi voluntad ¬¬
Doctor: te noto molesta...
M: ¡no quería venir!
Doctor: bueno, bueno, te haré algunas preguntas ¿de acuerdo?
M: como quiera...
Doctor: dime algo que odies
M: que los peces de cece entren a mi cuarto
Doctor: como podrían entrar peces a tu cuarto O_o
M: pues en una pecera ¿no?
Doctor: de acueerdo, que mas
M: emm, bueno en general, que cualquier ser viviente entre a mi cuarto
Doctor: ¿alguna de tus compañeras lo ah hecho?
M: no creo que les convenga hacerlo
Doctor: ¿tienes mascotas mariand?
M: si, una serpiente llamada fraude y un gato llamado chesstre :3
Doctor: una ¿s-sepiente?
M: sii... *habla pausadamente*
... Merry Birthday, Jeff!!!*
Hello Gorgeous, pretty fella!
Would write you a complete novella
of young and charming Cinderella
draped with but a pink umbrella,
munching beef with Salmonella -
however - great. You are in luck:
my pen is simply grossly stuck!
Mean and tricksy midnight puck
with firm blessings stuffed 'n tucked
it in none too small a scale
well underneath the fluffy tail
~ of a well fed mongoose duck!
... Oh, ye gods!!!
What ever are we now to do?!!
Here's a quirky point of view:
let us fill her with fine brew;
for until she finds the loo -
our common goal we can't pursue!
So, in the Merry month of May,
- or July - whichever way -
run, have fun - enjoy your play
and dip thine whiskers in soufflé
of gifts and wishes: a neat soiree
(that we are) we cheer and say:
~ long live our Jeffy on this saintly Day!
Nothing But FrustrationNothing works
My head just wont work right tonight
No rhythm flows with what I compose
My rhymes just don't work out sometimes
Nothing to read
Nothing to sing
The songs I sing just have no ring
Nothing to do
Nothing to say
Everything I say is just too cliché
Nothing to write
Nothing to blend
Blend is just stupid so this is the end
How To Be A LadyBe kind and gentle
Remember! Nothing is accidental.
Remember all the little things
Never dip your feet, even in the most gentle of springs.
Never neglect your gentleman callers
No matter how much he hollers.
Your voice must be soft and gentle
Loud noises are vile and considered mental.
Never take wine with your afternoon tea
And a lady should never beg or plea.
Cloths should always be perfect, skirts never distraught
A parasol brought whenever it is hot.
No matter how rich, always act humble
And a lady, would never fumble.
A lady should always know when to use each fork
and how to eat her pork.
Always remember to lower your head
When greeted by another, even one you dread.
Now, remember your manners and never make a racket
or you might end up in a straight jacket.
Why Dogs are Better Than CatsA dog has a lot to do,
But you already to that,
and so this is a poem all about
why dogs are better than cats.
First, let's talk about night,
Since night gives most of us some fright;
Dogs will sleep all through the day (except when they have to play, of course)
But if an intruder knocks on the door,
A dog will roll up off the floor,
And bark, and bark, and bark.
And say the intruder didn't knock,
The dog will not exactly bark,
But will come up to the bad guy
wagging its tail,
Distracting the bad fellow with endless kisses.
Then Mom will know something is amiss,
Since someone in the house is getting kissed,
and everyone is safe in bed,
So a bad guy must be wanting fed;
So the Mom will come down and bring out the chicken,
Or at least that's what Fido thinks,
Then she'll feed Fido first, and then the bad guy,
Who wants to be fed
And everyone will be happy because Fido got chicken, and petted, and so forth.
Oviously there is no need for point two,
Because it should be very clear to you,
blind justicecaught in the act
a selfie to boot
should not have posed
so close to the loot
darn social media
a souvenir is fine
but don't show the whole world
who committed the crime
when all the evidence
is so easy to find
only hope that justice
will truly be blind
A Case of Identity: James WindibankA/N: By Jove!" he continued, flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneer upon the man's face, "it is not part of my duties to my client, but here's a hunting crop handy, and I think I shall just treat myself to--"
“Mr. James Windibank,
Those who play games of sin we spank.”
Holmes raises his hunting crop…
“Oh, is that the time? I mustn’t stop!”
(wild clatter of steps upon the stairs)
Never A Happy EndingOver a Beer a Psychologist once told me...that there are only a few that he never truely understood,
and the worst out of the whole lot,
was that Little Miss Red Riding Hood.
She told him lies and would often storm of in a huff,
from day one he knew...'this little girl was going to be tuff'.
She told him how...she would cut with a knife,
any Wolf...that would dare give her any strife.
This bitterness she carried with her...through out her whole life,
she never once found love...or was to become someones wife.
In old age... her good vision was lost,
and to this...any poor four legged creature, with its life...would unfortunately pay the cost.
Stuck growing old...as a little fairytale girl,
she ended up going insane...claiming everything had a Wolf like smell.
Then she got institutionalised...when she thought granny was a Wolf...and threw her down the Well.
With more beer...the Psychologist...more tales, he started to tell,
Then there was Prince Charming....who never really got over his
Too Much InformationFor many years I have delayed,
But now I’m tired of waiting,
For now I feel mature enough
To tackle online dating
I think I must be honest,
And say it’s been a while,
Since last I had a lady friend,
But here goes with my profile:
Name and Appearance:
My name (for shame) is Stinky Stan
My body odour’s rank,
My parents gave this rotten name,
I’ve changed it now to Hank.
I think I’m almost six foot tall,
My body’s large and lumpy
I dress in the most drabbest clothes,
And others say I’m frumpy.
My eyes are beady buttons;
For my nose I lack the words,
And brown warts grow upon my cheeks
That look like squishy turds.
My lips are non-existent,
And I have rotten teeth,
My chin has yet another chin,
My neck is thin and scraggy,
My teeth are falling out,
My penis bends in such a way,
It’s like a teapot spout.
My knees are quite arthritic,
My elbows sharp and thin,
My chest is just pathetic,
and my stomach’s
ODE TO BREADMy dearest bread
Thou art my life
Without thee a tear I shed
And I surely live in strife
Thou art the wind beneath mine wings
Thou art the reason the caged bird sings
Soft edges and brown crust
For thee is truly whom I lust
And wouldst the holy firmament crack
If it was thee I did lack?
It is thee that keeps me whole
It is thee that I lay in my boot!
Bread! Thou art sweetest in a roll!
My love for thee, finest bread
Will stay with me until I am dead
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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