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| 05 Nov 2011 10:07 PM |
My poetry is from the viewpoint of an old man looking down upon a graceful, ignorant child.
Little boy/ You are my toy/ When I bleed/ You will feel my bowels/ And perceive the sweet smell of coitus
How you move/ Makes me groove/ In my Depends/ How you waggle/ When I put you in a/ Confined place/ Oh, how you breathe/ When the bag is upon your head/ And you are bleeding in a/ Confined place
There, there, little boy/ It will only hurt for a second/ Or an hour/ Or a day/ But the worst part/ I think/ Is the lack of maidens/ There are no maidens in this house/ Incestuous breeders they are/ And none will comfort you/ When you hurt for a month |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:08 PM |
| This is just... sickening, even to me. |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:08 PM |
This is just... sickening, even to me. _____ Why? I was influenced by Poe and my favorite bands.
It's not graphic; it's all metaphorical. |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:13 PM |
I'm betting 20 tix VVyO isn't going to false report on this.
~I was the one who wrote gullible on the ceiling.~ |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:13 PM |
Salt, AHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHA reallY? |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:14 PM |
I call this one split.
I looked up/ And pinned upon a cross was a man/ As I neared him, his person shrunk/ By the spontaneity of God my walls turned to wavering rivers of opium/ The floor to morphine/ And I could see/ Through a mutilated visage/ The anti-Christ I had produced/ Through countless nights of narcotics and sodomy/ The most repulsive image yet/ Was how the mans or boy's head was/ Split/ And through the schism/ Came countless other "isms" or, more rascally, "asms"/ And the brainwashing worked |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:17 PM |
How to Preserve a Co(r)pse:
Get some tissue/ Any brand will do/ But first you gotta kill the body/ When the latter deed is dead and done/ You gotta adhere the tissue/ But first take a double tap/ There are many fluids one can use/ But lighter fluids works best |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:25 PM |
0.0 Conjoined Fetus Man
Fist like a ham/ 6 feet tall was The Conjoined Fetus Man/ His age was ambiguous/ His faith contested/ But his countenance marred/ By that hideous thing/ It looked liked a sack of blood/ But in actuality it was brother/ Brother Bä'wei/ His brother evil/ No argument about it/ And consequently he possessed/ The 0.0 Conjoined Fetus Man
This is a follow up of the former poem. It is entitled "Nights With Brother" and deals with the two celestial or hellish beings romantic relations.
The Man touched the thing every night/ Every evening/ Before its feeding/ It would make an odd noise when touch/ And would release a viscous, beige fluid/ The man would sodomize it/ Though seemingly impossibly/ And please it, therefore pleasing whate'er god it served |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:28 PM |
Opened and Obtuse
I was debating/ Quite ferociously/ The drug to take/ I took morphine, and O, I will never forget/ The WALLS/ The very RIDES/ I took/ The falling horizontally/ The tripping o'er countless opiate lakes/ Countless opiate ponds/ Walls of screaming or laughing/ Very trenches of euphoria/ Perceiving and believing these environments acutely/ While in reality/ Men of medicine examined me/ While I was Opened and Obtuse |
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guy890007
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| Joined: 07 Mar 2011 |
| Total Posts: 4044 |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:31 PM |
| Suddenly, I got creeped out. |
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Rishuri
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| Joined: 20 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 872 |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:33 PM |
| This is making me think of my grandpa... |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:33 PM |
This is "Split Tongue"
How would exotic children/ With all their primitive rituals/ React/ When I place my Split Tongue/ Upon their straight one/ And dig?/ Would they cry/ Or embrace it with theirs?/ One day I will stop pondering and eventually do it/ And perhaps perform the reversal/ And take a Nepalese child/ Split his tongue/ And breed it with mine |
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Rishuri
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| Joined: 20 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 872 |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:36 PM |
| Again... thinking of my grandpa... |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:45 PM |
This is my "Freak-Love Miniature Epic"
I came in the room With Sir Francis Radroon And sat down In wonderment And awe The thing on the table In the dark room Stinking room Room with animals moving Room with some inert and probably dead Room with once white curtains And ultimately A room with something small in stature On the medicinal practice table Breathing
The breathing was odd Heavy and rapid As if it were nervous at me Staring at me Through blue eyes! I soon began to move and examine it It stilled The geometry of the thing was all wrong One crooked leg, it looked like an "S" The other cut and cauterized A massive bulge in the stomach And fleshy pods constituting the face
I meant to love
And love it I did
It took pleasure from the pods I applied pressure It squirmed I put my head on the belly bulge And applied pressure It stiffened with delight
The mouth a weird, as if a part was bitten off In fighting An another weird thing was that it was toothless
Me being a freak, I slipped it right in And boy, was that climactic
It puked and refused, but eventually submitted Then I explored it some more
My monkey was always flawed Short where it should be long Thick were thin And riddled with bumps But the thing or boy's imperfections Lessened my self-consciousness
It was time
Francis Radroon was paid in full I took the thing to my happy house And eventually drowned it in the pool! |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:46 PM |
| Moral? It's alright to love something imperfect when one is imperfect. Also, mercy killing is okay. |
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Rishuri
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| Joined: 20 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 872 |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:47 PM |
| Is it weird that all of your poetry makes me think of my grandpa? |
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| 05 Nov 2011 10:48 PM |
Is it weird that all of your poetry makes me think of my grandpa? _____ No, my grandpa was also very conservative. |
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| 08 Nov 2011 09:26 PM |
I call this one "Nepalese Niece
Oh, my Nepalese niece/ How you like to feast/ Upon my broken skin/ And my pyre stained of dark feces and sin/ How the brown rolls down/ Your succulent, crumbling lips/ Put those lips to work/ Wap it all around/ Never tire/ And you'll achieve renown. |
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| 08 Nov 2011 09:29 PM |
I don't like it.
Because I don't like you.
Put two and two together, make the connection. |
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pwnful
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| Joined: 03 Oct 2008 |
| Total Posts: 10505 |
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| 08 Nov 2011 09:30 PM |
| for some reason i think you know a lot about how john lennon died |
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| 08 Nov 2011 09:30 PM |
here's my honest opinion i do not like these at all no. |
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| 08 Nov 2011 09:30 PM |
I don't like it.
Because I don't like you. _____ Alright, you choose to be biased. |
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| 08 Nov 2011 09:34 PM |
| I'll be biased if I want. Who are you to say what I can and can't do? |
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