Nominated for Poet Laureate in 2050
Wonderful Poetry
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Posts by Wonderful Poetry
This is infantile
015 years
This is infantile
And O! The corrupt sloths! How deeply they dream!
On either misery the tear battles BOUNDLESSLY;
It is POSITIVE and sweet.
From blazing poets to loams of snow; they complain.
It is hot like the most mirrored octopus!
Turn where the monkeys pull
And down by the stinking frog
It must be LIMP.
From HUMANOID supernovae to things of oxygen; they endure.
Springtime perpetuates the ambiguously crazy poet-drinks.
The network must know:
And my thing shrieks — “stroll!”
015 years
And my thing shrieks — “stroll!”
But ’tis lukewarm, and yet some are hot,
O! For a pair of tangents to trust!
I’m shrinking; destructing;
The network must know:
On the boundless adventure-horns, where the electrified triggers ascend
015 years
On the boundless adventure-horns, where the electrified triggers ascend.
I’m the POEM with my pain-stork
And O! The brainy hands! How deeply they glitter!
Cannons are actually bulldozers in MINE eyes,
O encrusted hammer of trust!
The network must know:
BEINGS ARE GLOOMY, KINGS ARE YELLOW
015 years
BEINGS ARE GLOOMY, KINGS ARE YELLOW.
They remain as they were, mirrored and peculiar.
COLD DRINKS.
THE DOOR OF HEAVEN AND ADVENTURE, A SOFT
The network must know:
“You cannot define tuna.”
015 years
“You cannot define tuna.”
As I purr and as I endure,
REMARKABLE! And uh!
And knowing by
BUT ’TIS ELECTRIFIED, AND YET SOME ARE TERRIBLE,
I felt hate’s organ
It must be LUKEWARM.
The network must know:
Brains are never PINK
015 years
Brains are never PINK.
A bit of a humanoid IMPERSONATE has oft wrought digital galaxies.
Which but few knuckles from these underlings
O interesting clown,
Goodness! And ooh!
Defining the TOWERS intelligently.
The network must know:
The love has no finishing
015 years
The love has no finishing.
Could but challenge their hermits;
That’s ambiguously broke in adventures:
And through the gas the creature implodes by
The network must know:
O PRINCE OF BACON, BIOLOGICAL SON OF THE WET
015 years
O PRINCE OF BACON, BIOLOGICAL SON OF THE WET.
DON’T DIE MY EARTHLING,
THE CONCILIATORY STORK IS BLINKING.
VBut some lump should STRUM them to storks.
MIX THEIR SQUID,
THE “TANGENT OF ILLUSION”,
THEY ARE FAT, BOUNDLESS MORASS,
TUMULTS HAVE BEEN CHARGING, DRINK UPON PREDATOR,
The network must know:
I battled opportunity’s monkey
015 years
I battled opportunity’s monkey
O key of burlap, pink system of the red.
The tongues upon the vow
DON’T THEORIZE THY PRINCESS,
The network must know:
I’ll examine you till the snail
015 years
I’ll examine you till the snail
It is drunken.
Lead a hook, how it brings me delight! Really!
I’m strolling and destructing
O my symbols shout at a creative, hot android
Like the songs and the rabbit.