The Poetry Thread

Admin.

Everything I don’t like is woke!
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The three must-be-queers and the cuck.

@The New Holliday is gay
He fucks @Admin. in the hay

@Larry Loungelizard is centred
He plugs @Admin. ‘s mouth bented.

The radio is playing under the barnyard hen…
“It’s raining men…hallelujah!”

@Corky is there too…tugging away, using his own shit for lube.

Buckeroo…fuckeroo!
Whats the matter my little tasmanian devil, did the Tilapia have a headache tonight?
 

Blandscape

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Let me tell you what you have done,
when you gave up your right to succumb,
to the interest that only interests you,
and an ability to simply scrape one view.

In the media you taught yourself respect,
you forgot about the self neglect,
where hope was forged in a fire of worth,
as you looked upon a shameless flirtatious birth.

That ostracized the hope that you once had,
when you respected more than your opinion demands.
 

The Cuntess

Hood with it
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Let me tell you what you have done,
when you gave up your right to succumb,
to the interest that only interests you,
and an ability to simply scrape one view.

In the media you taught yourself respect,
you forgot about the self neglect,
where hope was forged in a fire of worth,
as you looked upon a shameless flirtatious birth.

That ostracized the hope that you once had,
when you respected more than your opinion demands.


You’re still a boring Jew fag
 

Larry Loungelizard

I appreciate irony as long as I'm not it's victim.
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There once was an old man from Sprocket,
Who went up to space in a rocket,
The rocket went bang,
His gonads went clang,
And his ass ended up in his pocket.
 

Breakfall

Such is life...
ASS BOXED
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There once was a man from Calcutta,
who fell asleep in the gutter.
The tropical sun burnt a hole in his bum,
and melted his ballz to butter!

Yo…change it up!
 

chew the fat

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[] STOP []

I feel a throbbing deep inside
Feel hot, aroused, and wet
I cannot run, I cannot hide
And I break into a sweat ...

I'm always super in the mood
Feel like I'm gonna pop
Constantly, I'm feeling lewd
Why can't I make it stop ...

At times, I don't know what to do
Feel desperate and sad
I honestly don't have a clue
Afraid that I'll go mad ...

Most people do not understand
Why lust feels like a sin
It was not something that I planned
I just can't seem to win ...

I just want it to go away
So I'll just grab my toys
Play with myself all freaking day
My moans make so much noise ...

Since orgasms are just about
The only thing I need
I don't much care if I'm too loud
And I'll pick up the speed ...

I sometimes think I might be lewd
A sinful girl, I'm sure
But though I know that I am screwed
It's what I must endure ...

I pray to God, please make it stop
Please make it go away
I just can't take much more of this
Oh please, don't make it stay ...
 

The New Holliday

Now With 25% More Infinity
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A fav of mine fer its troof
.. One of @Blandscape 's own.

The foundation of so many a modern observation.
. How one feels for the lil beastie.

To a Mouse​

By
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On Turning her up in her Nest, with the Plough, November 1785.

Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi’ bickerin brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee
Wi’ murd’ring pattle!

I’m truly sorry Man’s dominion
Has broken Nature’s social union,
An’ justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle,
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An’ fellow-mortal!

I doubt na, whyles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen-icker in a thrave
’S a sma’ request:
I’ll get a blessin wi’ the lave,
An’ never miss ’t!

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It’s silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,
Baith snell an’ keen!

Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,
An’ weary Winter comin fast,
An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell,
Till crash! the cruel coulter past
Out thro’ thy cell.

That wee-bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou’s turn’d out, for a’ thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the Winter’s sleety dribble,
An’ cranreuch cauld!

But Mousie, thou art no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar’d wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!
 

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She will dance no more
The will to thrill is diminished
Not wanting to take the floor
The need to impress has finished
She has taken the exit door
For there is only one to please
Happiness can be the key
The picture was one to seize
She has left and now she is free
 

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the girls are hot
they have the lot
the boys are so cool
but they can only drool
and all they got is diddlysquat
 

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hyCg78z.jpg
 

Admin.

Everything I don’t like is woke!
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I Think I Could Turn And Live With Animals...
By Walt Whitman

I think I could turn and live with animals,
they are so placid and self-contain'd,
I stand and look at them long and long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

So they show their relations to me and I accept them,
They bring me tokens of myself, they evince them plainly in their possession.

I wonder where they get those tokens,
Did I pass that way huge times ago and negligently drop them?

Myself moving forward then and now and forever,
Gathering and showing more always and with velocity,
Infinite and omnigenous, and the like of these among them,
Not too exclusive toward the reachers of my remembrancers,
Picking out here one that I love, and now go with him on brotherly terms.

A gigantic beauty of a stallion, fresh and responsive to my caresses,
Head high in the forehead, wide between the ears,
Limbs glossy and supple, tail dusting the ground,
Eyes full of sparkling wickedness, ears finely cut, flexibly moving.

His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him,
His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return.

I but use you a minute, then I resign you, stallion,
Why do I need your paces when I myself out-gallop them?
Even as I stand or sit passing faster than you.

American poet, essayist and journalist, May 31, 1819 – March 26, 1892
 

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the bastard factory
will never ever be beaten ...
the weak here always get eaten ...
do you think you can survive ...
and still get out of here alive ...
or do you stay ...
and log in and play ... :OhGawd:
 

Mr. Wednesday

Ecstasy Of Strife
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Mama, don't let your cowboys grow up to be babies
If they's growin' up backwards, I reckon you done somethin' wrong
Mama, teach them to love that ol' linear timeline
But if ya won't, reckon I'll just un-sing this ridiculous song
 

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[] The Bush []

In her garden where her lady parts grow,
There’s a little secret you may not know.
Her bush stands proud, lush and free,
Hiding its mysteries just for you and me.

Trimmed or untamed, it makes no fuss,
A natural woman is a bit of a plus.
Soft whispers moan in the night,
Drawing you closer to her tempting sight.

A bit unruly, yet charming still,
It thrives untouched by the woman's will.
For her bush, dear friend, is nature’s art,
Wild and untamed to the beat of her heart

So let it flourish and embrace its tease,
A playful secret in the evening breeze.
Whether tidy or wild, let it be,
For her bush is as bold as it is free ...
 

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[] The Vagina []

we use a vagina for sex
and I hope it expects
to get a good clit licking
and then a long hard fricking
after which it has no regrets ...


[] The Penis []

we use a penis for sex
and I hope it expects
to get it in all the way in
which would be a definite win
and its not really all that complex ...


[] The Orgasm []

Yes Yes Yes Yes
omg omg omg
f uuuuuu k
dont stop
stop
dont stop
stop
dont stop
 

Jack

An ocean of most souls is a dry bed of sand
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Little miss muffet
Sat on her tuffet
Eating her curds and whey,
Along came a spider
And sat down beside her
She beat its fucking head in with her spoon!
 

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[] So Whose Next []​


We got the bomb and that was good.
'Cause we love peace and motherhood.
But Russia got the bomb, but that's okay.
The balance of is power's maintained that way.
So who's next ...


France got the bomb, but don't you grieve.
'Cause they're on our side, so I believe.
China got the bomb, but have no fears.
They can't wipe us out for at least five years.
So who's next ...

Then Lebanon claimed that they.
Are gonna make one any day.
Yemen wants two, that's right.
It's only fair that they can fight.
So who's next ...

Iran's gonna get one, too,
Just to use on you know who.
So Israel's getting very tense.
And wants one in self-defence.
So who's next ...

So whose next, we don't know.
It needs to be a right old show.
So let Trump make all the calls.
'Cause he has the biggest balls.

[] So who wants to be fucking next [] ...
 

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[] 2 0 2 5 []

I am now a brand-new version

it's somewhat of a big conversion
now that it's 2 0 2 5
this is how I gunna jive
to work out more to stay alive ...


I know this will be alright
as I have seen the light
it was a light bulb going on
and it's not some new con

much to my delight ... :OhGawd:
 

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no phone
no wifi
no internet
I only wanted to look up sex
so I don't be a fucking reject

no phone
no wifi
no internet
a new girl I have just met
she has a fucking good set

no phone
no wifi
no internet
that's about all I can get
except ...
I ain't fucking perfect ... :OhGawd: