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POETRY - Can you write a Poem?

Re: POETRY - A BALLAD FOR TC AND JAKE

He's known as Cowboy among all his friends
and that's what he is and always will be,
for he knows how to handle cattle and horses.
His father says from his childhood he could see

how animals listened to him when he spoke
from the time he was a toddler just four,
and all through his teen years they behaved
as they do even now though now even more.

And the guys and gals who live where he does
respect him for being true to what he believes:
that each human being has the right to exist
and will live life to the fullest if he never deceives

though it may hurt and even upset, but truth
as he sees it, is the best thing to tell,
and he in return asks his friends to be true,
and from behaving this way life is lived well.

They have deep respect for his manner of dress
in the tightest Wranglers a young man can wear
though they show off his asscrack and cockslit
and balls as though he were naked but such a fair

beauty of body and face compels people to follow him
wherever he's seen be it at events held in rodeos
or a shower for friends where he gets whipped
when springing from a cake on his nimble toes,

or strutting the stage at fashion show galas
where he is voted as sporting the most golden locks
or wearing (as noted) the skintightest Wrangs in the state
or having among cowboys the biggest of cocks.

He takes without yelping the most bullwhip strokes
when punished for speeding or getting in scraps
at the Friday night contests in defense of Jake
whom he loves with the deepest devotion - perhaps

any young man could feel for another. And he tells everyone
how gorgeous Jake's face is, his ass and his eyes
that light up when he sees him like stars in the heavens
and he proclaims: "What a lover Jake is! What a prize!"

And when they walk around town they cannot refrain
from kissing and fondling each other's deep ass crack
their crack seams expose (as noted above) and when they sit down
for a burger and coffee of the world and time they lose track.
 
This is a bad thread to hit.....it causes thinking for a bit

instead of talks of cocks and of rags and brags

drooling at colorful pics of some big juicy dicks

look for a fetish or two waiting here just for you

filled with the worst of dirty porn and dirty people filled with scorn

and its incidental by the way but the place is really gay

This is a bad thread to hit.....it causes thinking for a bit
----------------------------------------------------

You're all good here and some food for thought
You're the best that JUB has got..|:=D:..|

(GROAN)
 
Whipped,

You are nothing if not consistent
in your choice of literary treats.
And you've managed to package it
in verse's valise!

Those Wrangs wrapped round those cheeks and cocks,
with heads full of golden tresses, locks,
and a most intriguing view from their backs,
truly does reveal some enticing cracks.

You've written passionately, 'least a time or two,
Of the joy?! received when they BullWhip You.

I'm not from your home in the Lone Star State,
and I KNOW I'd be walking with a tender gate,
If e'er some Sheriff it befell my fate,
to come cross purposes late on a date.

That culture is alien to me, you see,
it's nothing short of brutality.

'haps once was a day when it's cat-o-nine,
was not so tenderly applied to the 'hind,
as a measure of just recompense
for jumping another rancher's fence.

For trying to make off with a steer or two,
that belonged to HE, and not to you,
Once warranted lynching on the nearest tree,
as a lesson to learn, for all to see.

Egads, Gadzooks, and Glory Be,
He's now whipping the boys in Poetry!

If whip the asses of those boys so well hung
is a job that must have needs be done,
Then, PLEASE, I implore you, use your TONGUE!
(and be sure to lap up, all of their cum. ;))
 
This flower is scorched
This film is on
On a maddening loop.
These clothes...
These clothes don’t fit us right
I’m to blame
It’s all the same...
It’s all the same

You come to me with a bone in your hand
You come to me with your hair curled tight
You come to me with positions
You come to me with excuses
Ducked out in a row
You wear me out...
You wear me out

We’ve been through fake-breakdowns
Self hurt
Plastics, collections
Self help, self pain,
EST, psychics, fuck all
I was central
I had control
I lost my head
I need this...
I need this

A paper weight, junk garage
Winter rain, a honey pot
Crazy, all the lovers have been tagged
A hotline, a wanted ad
It’s crazy what you could have had...
It’s crazy what you could have had
I need this...
I need this
 
Hmmm.
I definitely am going to have to let this one simmer in the ol' cranium for a bit.

You've written something that takes wit
to dig underneath all of it

and understand what you mean
and whither thou goest,
which way do you lean.
 
I'm so sorry DQ, but I didn't write this one. It's a piece from my favorite poet Michael Stipe. I shall'nt forget to credit him in the future... please accept my humble apology.

But your critique was spot on! You put it so beautifully, he is certainly a master at digging beneath it all and extracting the essence of a thought.

This piece to me is saying, the relationship isn't working out anymore{This flower is scorched/these clothes don't fit us right} he's telling someone, it's over.{you wear me out} I believe.

But he's also saying that all the things they have shared{the little things we all share with our significant others/junk garage/winter rain/sexual positions} were things he will always treasure and never lose{I need this...}

And in the end I think he wants to say that somehow his partner [or perhaps himself?] will come to regret not having this relationship anymore{crazy what you could have had}
But I need this...
I need this




I wanted to show you something with no specific pattern to it, yet has a cohesive message holding the pieces together.

I want to write like that Q! I think I would do anything... short of selling my soul to the....**thunder claps in the distance**
 
mine were the thoughts you cast aside

egalitarian effrontery you cried

yea to indoctrinations of the elite

nay to the clamors of another effete

your icons commanded an imperialist switch

but nothing else changed and thats my bitch.

discuss?
why us?
cause fuss?
make muss?
who amongs us?
would dare discuss?


When they all got caught
I once had this thought
That couldn't be bought
what hath god wrought


Just wondering.......

If a guy who is circumcised tastes different
than a guy who isn't,
Does a guy who is vasectimised taste different
than a guy who isn't?

:eek::help:(!):badgrin:(!):help::eek:
 
C'est possible, mon ami Lefty, c'est possible.

But, then again, we taste different, anyway, or so I am told,
by others who have been so bold,
as to sample more seed than their own.

You are what you eat,
and just like your sweat,
your cum picks up flavours
of what you have et.

Garlic, Tomatoes, Onions, Whew!
How to spice up your cum
and the sweat of your groin, too.

I guess there's only one real way
to answer your question -
and I think it won't get answered
soon on any day.

For to know for sure, we'd need volunteer
to sample their fun
then to Dr. Snip take them near,
while maintaining their diet with
all the same gum,
then after a couple of weeks to clear the tubes,
we'd have to sip of their cum.

But, then they'd be stuck
shooting blanks at the duck.
And they likely would tell us
No way, ourselves we could fuck.
 
Damn "Q" all you had to do was say you don't swallow. You didn't have to

say no in such a gentle and sensitive manner. Of course I am abrim with

regret and remorse having now to seek other recourse. To find one finally and

at last who can enjoy even make me...their favorite repast.
-------------------------
When I wink

Suck my dink

I will squirt

You eat the spurt

If you pass

I'll have your ass

Not much to say

I'll make your day

You spread the cheek

I'll use a sheik

And then we are done

Both of us had some fun
-----------------

was it worth the wait :p:bartshock:rotflmao::bartshock:p
 
Lefty, You Misinterp,
I never said I wouldn't Slurp.

I merely said,
Those unsnipped would dread
having their balls "severed" from their head.

For they've no reason
to see if "season"
changes with the lack of seed.

You & I don't qualify
for we've no chance
for the "pre" snip stance.

But that doesn't mean
we can't be seen
supping from each others loins
the privilege of who goes first
decided by a toss of coins.

:p
 
The ocean surged with a mighty roar
and in its thunder thrust the body to shore

the rampant waves they did recede
and left the body there to bleed.


no person could ever begin to tell
what it was in that flotsom floated from hell

all the dirt twice verdant once with green
now dying dead and its coat obscene

this place a mantle as of golden earth
once shook with children and by their mirth

and there were lovers on this pristine land
making their love and babies in the sand

but there came from a hole deep in the sea
a seeping oozing monster now was set free

unleashed unfettered released so to roam
from sea to land it makes it all home

But for now this day its appetite replete
rest is needed come the morrow just repeat
-----------------------------------


too subtle...vague...just lousy? so obvious... clear...just perfect?

can't hurt my feelings if you tell your truth.
 
Lefty,
I certainly don't think it's lousy.
Poignant, thought provoking.

The symbolism is striking, haunting, downright scare the bejeezus out of you.

Thanks for sharing some of your more revealing verse with us.
 
The Invincible Walls all now have towers

as thick as any stone and mortared well

Built through desperation and through fears

that they might withstand the beasts of hell.

A mind so bolstered and its battered guards

show nothing and will never tell

What scorches and scars choking all and still waits

attacks again at each break of day

feasting at the suppurating lesions of those nights

of being cursed for being gay

the head held low and drear no smile or any cheers

For the soul of man now let us pray

-----------------------------
I dunno, wasn't where I thought I was going.
 
d43e5d3d44f35a226242b5978771b9f5.gif


Our fauder whom are tin heaven
bless us for these eye gives
which we are about to receive
in the land of the kingdonites...
 
Lefty,
That is powerful.
Sad, oh so sorrowful.
Unfortunately, it's also all too true of man's inhumanity to man.
 
Our Irreverent Shih Tzu is on the mend - his humour is coming back!
 
Here's a thought. I'll chose a theme or word and you(anyone whom wants to play) can write a piece around that theme or word... wanna play?

Sure you do...now shut up while I think...hmmmm


Dight


The word is dight. Use it in a poem or lyric. Good luck, you have a week to finish. :cool:GO!
 
Lefty,
That is powerful.
Sad, oh so sorrowful.
Unfortunately, it's also all too true of man's inhumanity to man.
Man can be such a bastard!:grrr:Good job Lefty! It's about time someone pointed it out!

Our Irreverent Shih Tzu is on the mend - his humour is coming back!
When you're on your deathbed and your dog's the only one mourning, you have to keep your sense of humor in tact.:(

And I think Archie was more begging me to get up and pour him some Pedigree than really mourning, bless his heart.
 
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