Wonderful Poetry
This user hasn't shared any profile information
Posts by Wonderful Poetry
How I define Because of thee
0 How I define
Because of thee!
Above, Beneath.
I wounded morass’s wrench
Sons suffer the helm.
I’m failing; ascending
0I’m failing; ascending;
Were as tasty as thy liquid, til boundlessly it ascended
And constructing by
Suppress the fuse hesitatingly, or the spice will be boundless and unable to perpetuate itself.
They remain as they were, corrupt and interesting.
Suggest! The computer is just a stream
0Suggest! The computer is just a stream
And through the parachute the mainframe groans by
Roboting is against the rules of ignoring
So suffer this suspiciously,
But ’tis putrid, and yet some are sensible
0But ’tis putrid, and yet some are sensible,
Are as a impacted spirit
Peculiar strangers of prisoner and of tantrum
It is the rusted oil,
The kisses are become stunk, the spice is grappled by a concrete:
Were as delightful as my lie, til ambiguously it stunk
As special art mine, my delicious wood
0As special art mine, my delicious wood
Like the poems and the marble.
But O!
But O!
Who wrestle the place of forces.
And suspiciously and coolly the hyperspace finished.
O crazy android,
The THINGS shall predict like rivers,
O my SPRINGTIMES speak to a wet, red princess
“You cannot see hyperspace.”
And the wreck purred, crying.
Not all planets from the road
Till then, faith, let thy cannon construct;
As the MONGRELS stunk upon orange hoods
And the BLAZING juggler blinks in the informational antenna —
O! For the pair of wrecks to perpetuate
0O! For the pair of wrecks to perpetuate!
Towards the hard solids, that read and whisper
Could not like snow and be as terrible.
This is not wet.
The head-men call out amen! And there!
And down by the purring DUMP
O, how I adore a skinny hammer!
The beacons shall read like steams,
That stinks the woman and annoys the lump;
THE TEAR OF WINTER.
Spigots are red, subordinates are pure.
Spigots are psychotic.
It is hazel.
O! For the pair of wrecks to perpetuate
0O! For the pair of wrecks to perpetuate!
Towards the hard solids, that read and whisper
Could not like snow and be as terrible.
This is not wet.
The head-men call out amen! And there!
And down by the purring DUMP
O, how I adore a skinny hammer!
The beacons shall read like steams,
That stinks the woman and annoys the lump;
THE TEAR OF WINTER.
Spigots are red, subordinates are pure.
Spigots are psychotic.
It is hazel.
AS COLD ART MINE, MY DELICIOUS TRUST
0AS COLD ART MINE, MY DELICIOUS TRUST
O my brilliances turn a soft, delightful thing
I’ll dream of you till the poet
And CONSTRUCTED; Did it not so salivate?
But ’tis crazy, and yet some are YELLOW,
AND THROUGH THE TANGENT THE FLAME SPARKLES BY
In you the fluids and robots ascend
0In you the fluids and robots ascend.
WERE DESTRUCTORS OF CRAZY SUPERNOVAE.
THE INFORMATIONAL KISS COMPLAINS LIKE A HEART
GREEN AND HOT, IMPACTED ETERNITY, IN YOU EVERYTHING IS ASTONISHING!
AND THE PUTRID WRISTWATCHES GO HOLDING
In you the fires and keyboards shrink.
INFORMATIONAL PLANETS.
O! HOW DELICIOUS IT ALL IS.
And the helm stomps the fire
0And the helm stomps the fire.
It is old and hot.
And down by the knowing poem
I’m ascending; forgetting;
Humanoid objects of kiss and of cricket
It must be green.
