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Archive for November 16th, 2010

Dust Bunnies

No time today for working myself into a lather. Nope. This morning I’m cleaning out corners and posting bust bunnies. I collect them, you see …

Although the following almost reads like verse, it’s actually the search engine parameters that led people to this blog over the last two days … see graphic for proof of just how weird some folks are:

Search

baby octopus
girl panties
sex girl panties boxers
“sam parnia”
sandra hanks
anne dickinson wine
tearsscraps for mans
expat seychelles
i am not trying to resuscitate my youth i just happen to be crazy about big tits
opinions against adoption
poems about ejaculation
tiny girl panties
paradisepreoccupied
crying is ok for men poems
sam parnia aware results
nomad
plastic bbobs
johnny g spinning vocabulary
large schlong
a man is good in ruins
a man is a god in ruins
putting on my big girl panties
tits pointing up
meaning of scrabbel
teenage pedofiles

And now for some of my words by the meter ….

This one just popped out this morning … thanks to Robbie …

The Sacraments

Water drip
Salt to lip
Hand that baby over

Tiny room
doom and gloom
all that’s just to cover

tongue to host
holy ghost
Quite the cool maneuver

Pick a name
now you’re tame
Don’t contain your fervor

Troth to plight
wedding night
doesn’t bind a lover

Finished toil
unction oil
No, you won’t recover

In a grave
no one saved
Now, finally, it’s over

Here’s something that’s been hanging around for quite a while:

Cleo, Queen of Denial

It’s dark, they say
but, no,
it’s light
that’s how before me sits the sight
of gems and riches passed compare
and look!
that wall has seen repair

he’s false, they say
but, no,
he’s true
that’s how before me grand he grew
solid, strong and faithful through
and see!
his life begins anew

he’s drunk, they say
but, no
he’s sleeping
that’s how I sit here without weeping
works so hard, he needs his rest
and so
it looks I pass the test

And, just for fun …

Legends in Their Own Mind

There’s no such thing as a man who fishes
insisting I eat filling dishes

There’s no such thing as a flapping git
freaking out ’bout getting bit

There’s no such thing as a guitar man
any star living so far, and

there’s no such thing as someone’s lover
who hopes I never blow his cover

There’s no such thing as an Italian
who thinks he could be called “The Stallion”

There’s no such thing as an army man
whose life lay in another land

There’s no such thing as a drummer boy
who finds in Jesus all his joy

There was the one who took my breath
but, fuck, he ended up with Death

No … all were no more than a dream
that in my waking moments scream
“Please keep it all a mystery!”
No problem, Loves,
you’re history.

Desk now tidy. Time to get some work done …

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