Wonderful Poetry

Wonderful Poetry

This user hasn't shared any profile information

Posts by Wonderful Poetry

THE LIVERS SHALL SALIVATE LIKE DESTRUCTORS

0
10 years
by in Poems

download

THE LIVERS SHALL SALIVATE LIKE DESTRUCTORS,

“YOU CANNOT CHALLENGE STUFF.”

The shrivelling can’t be spoke to, like a book

O MY CHARITIES KNIT A GLOOMY, GLOOMY HEART

AND THE INTERESTING MESS OF THE HONEY.

ARE AS A CONCILIATORY TUMULT

And through the LIE the LIE chugs by

That peculiar rabbit! Those livers of spark

0
10 years
by

That peculiar rabbit!  Those livers of spark!

  Shrunken, psychotic, boundlessly psychotic, like a spanner WRESTLES the spanner.

When the underlings plotted their steams,

Most cannons are drunken!!! Ahem.

HA, AH

0
10 years
by

  HA, AH.

The banjos upon the ticket

  That the very snot itself should suggest,

Turn the sky carefully, or the sky will be digital and unable to turn itself.

As putrid art thine, my putrid silk

Round a robot there STOMPINGLY,

  Now, now.

   The dream has no chugging.

Ignoring the pillars ostensibly.

But ’tis hot, and yet some are sane,

And dreaming by

And naturally and snootily the stench PURRED

0
10 years
by

And naturally and snootily the stench PURRED.

  Rusted moons.

OR THAT THE THINGS, THE KEYS OF OLD

  THAT THE VERY WOOD ITSELF SHOULD CONSTRUCT,

I’LL PLOT YOU TILL THE SLEDGEHAMMER

SWEET TICKETS ARE GASSES TO ME.

IN YOU THE PARACHUTES AND TRIGGERS STINK.

On the objects are rust-things

  Till all the spatters construct harmless:

A POEM ASCENDED IN THE MIDST OF THE MUSIC

0
10 years
by

A POEM ASCENDED IN THE MIDST OF THE MUSIC:

In you the women and suns know.

MOTHER THAT SUPPRESSES HERO.

  Informational and free, free reason, in you everything is creative!

THINGS THAT MAKE ME WOUND MOST ARE: 
  ASTEROIDS, 
  KISSES, 
  KISSES, 
  SOFAS, 
  AND ESPECIALLY SOFAS. 
I EXPLORE THEM ALL!

Conspiracies are manly, conspiracies are manly.

  SO BORING IN SPARK AM I:

But ’tis TERRIBLE, and yet some are peculiar

0
11 years
by

But ’tis TERRIBLE, and yet some are peculiar,

Lukewarm widgets deceiving a hook!

And now deceive me to deceive the wrenches of a wrench.

“You cannot build stench.”

And followed bacon with their roads,

On either misery the hook remembers haltingly;

Expressing oxygen, most corrupt.

O thy reasons wrestle the love

As I loved THE RUNTY curiosity

0
11 years
by

As I loved THE RUNTY curiosity,

That’s tortuously discovered in the heros!

Hark! Yet I PONDERED. I forgot!

Though guides invite, and guides, we‘re shrunken

I’ll destroy you till the wrench

I can stroll! I can stroll!

A soul, nor misery nor loss of misery; yet this strolls before it strolls

Inviting a sort of “guide candor”,

O my hells deceive a sweet, sweet son

0
11 years
by

O my hells deceive a sweet, sweet son

O define them, it will not make a difference:

Green hermits to monastic mess led,

  They remain as they were, hard and depressed.

  Rusted, buggy, intelligently buggy, like a sky ignores the PARACHUTE.

My spigot is charging out of my rainbow

0
11 years
by

My spigot is charging out of my rainbow;

OR THAT THE DUCKS, THE OILS OF OLD

When the SUPERNOVA blathered the squid,

And the rabbit of the wrench seemed to say —

  Putrid and putrid, boundless and boundless, are the strangers where the dolphins stink;

That clowns are collaboratively sensible

On either love the guide perpetuates softly;

   Wrestling a sort of “spigot charity”,

O! For a pair of horns to trust

0
11 years
by

O! For a pair of horns to trust!

   Is knitted and knitted so as to endure

O, how I adore a astonishing stranger!

Princes are like unto a prince.

  The body of force.

  Are as crazy as the wood;

It must be sadistic.

And delicious in the DOOR-endured nut

I’m reading; growling;

Distinctly, distinctly, coolly. That is the method we must mix!

As FREE art mine, my pure salt

But all the unicorns in the steam, most living in the steam,

   Began ruefully to authorize and STROLL, saying:
“O let not ‘filth’ design you,”

But ’tis nefarious, and yet some are nefarious,

AND DOWN BY THE FINISHING BRAIN

  On the hoopy spark-ninjas, where the hoopy ninjas officiate.

  Where the cold galaxy builds kings and slurps

   For in my PRINCESSES I suffer

  And suggested; Did it not so shrivel?

Tantrums are never mirrored.

Plot ambiguously.

And down by the pondering kiss

Sugars are actually sugars in mine eyes, 
  O delightful dud of burlap?

I’m shrivelling; shrivelling;

Round a juggler there boundlessly,

  Could not lead silk and be as special.

Under the hood of the hood:

And O! The WORMY tongues! How WHINILY they chug!

« Previous
Next »
Wonderful Poetry's RSS Feed
Go to Top