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Utter Non-sense: A Poem you wont understandHellur?
In your face
in the sky
Where we fly high
when the moon seems to shine
But the clock ran out of time
like you had to much wine
For every time you dine
you're in love
When push comes to shove
bells go ring, ticky ticky ting, bitzabellla
And it's time for the slurpy lip smack of stratachella
sleepy random rhymingTickle the pickle...mittens the kitten...ring of the king...the givers dead on the riverbed...goodnight midnight..I yawn at dawn...time for a deep sleep...
Melanin Songhe has too much red melanin
and now he looks like crap
long hours spent out in the sun
have boilt the strong man’s back
he looks tough now but when he’s old
his skin will all but crack
and then it’s off to meet the Reaper
where he’ll feast on Lobster meat
does it sting you close to home
the fate of Crooked Jack
than do not loiter in the Sun
and let the wind be at your back
mustache story (the whovian chronicles)November 15, 2012, alliance ohio ..... It was a crisp autumn day at school, we had to present our essays to our English teacher who thought of himself as a "sergeant Funny-man" ... but we all knew that he was anything but funny. The person that I saw that day ... had the most beautiful mustache I've ever seen. He stood up to present his essay to the class, all eyes focused on him, he displayed with a grin on his face, and then without warning "IM A WHOVIAN!," He screamed at the top of his lungs, I knew he was the one, he truly cared. His words echoed down state street, A grin stretched across my face as my eyes perked up to the thought of the cause "IM A WHOVIAN!," I yelled. I'd never forget that man, the passion, the drive, the fedora ... don't get me started on the fedora. He was everything I was inspired to be tall, handsome, and classy .... I'm a whovian .... Im a whovian....
Willy NillyWilly Nilly
Oh so silly
Willy Nilly is asleep
He awoke in a curios land
A land of crazy birds that only went "creep"
A place of men who spoke only with demands
A man asked him
"what are you in"
Willy Nilly on a whim
said "A state of wonder"
"You dumb young fool
This is the country of Wonder"
Willy in such a shock
And awoke to his room, freshly painted
With his mother still in her smock
"You inhaled too much gas.
We were worried when out you did pass."
Oh so silly
a drink with the man upstairsWe hold a similar sense of humor
We laugh at the horrors of the world,
and most can call me sick.
But many don't call him sick
Even though he ain't perfect,
They lie and say he is.
He knows what he has done,
and yet we find ourself.
Laughing, at least he gave me heads up
About that tumor. We see eye to eye,
Where most people would ask
Why not stop war? Or make world peac?
Well me and him know the answer,
humans screwed ourself up, not with apples
or adultery. No, there is no such thing as sin
only strife, man Trips over himself in the funniest way.
Of course he could fix it
But we already know that another
Man will take his place
and man will continue to
Mess the world up even more.
So why do we site here drinking like fish
Because we both know that it's better
To laugh at misfortune and let it roll off our backs
Just me and the big man up there laughing at the struggle.
What i got to los
I hate Triangles. I think I hate triangles.
I hate them.
All of them.
(like a petite frenchman, twice as rude. It ain't cute honey.)
(It's like it's laughing at me behind it's Bacon Burger, knowing I can't have a bite of it's crispy taste.)
(You're not always right, ya know?)
Scribbled on my 100% recycle squishy paper.
Ripped through with a rubbed pencil point.
Crafted with blinded eyes, lines like bubble-wrap.
They cause' me to devour a piece of IKEA chocolate.
To blare "The Rolling Stones."
Take a selfie and refresh my Facebook feed for those desperate likes.
Honey, how many times do I have to remind ya...you're not popular.
4 likes, score!
(It's alright, your friends aren't on cause' they're actually doing homework).
I don't understand those Hipsters who want to brand themselves with these pretentious half-squares.
Cause' that's all they are anyways.
hey newton, gravity's flawedi.
starting anew from the flutter
and the sputter of lungs.
a vacant sea filled with feathers
and tumultuous clatter,
ribs in a treacherous pattern
resembling exiting rungs.
i want to wrestle the angels,
your tendency is the ladder.
involved with full indiscretion,
trading lazy for lace.
unspool the curse of the long-
limbs in a languorous flexion
i like the stab of the ankles,
you need the curves intersected.
opting to cull my extents
with trans-dimensional vigor.
spent my dysphoric corrections
on reconnecting lax ends.
lips in a spurious accent
feign a passionate rigor.
i tie myself to the anchor,
you extricate and ascend.
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