Nominated for Poet Laureate in 2050
Wonderful Poetry
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Posts by Wonderful Poetry
That the very SOIL itself should die
016 years
That the very SOIL itself should die,
Like the salt, like salt. In you, everything suppresses!
THEY ARE VOWS OF THE HOOPY BATHROOM,
The marbles are really blazing.
The network must know:
And designed hyperspace with their supernovae
016 years
And designed hyperspace with their supernovae,
I still must TRUST their wormy corruption!
Where groaned many the prince-turning grunt;
Many fingers enduring with a positive spice,
The network must know:
Blather crickets roughly — Until the silk cries out
016 years
Blather crickets roughly — Until the silk cries out:
I officiate in my conspiracy’s hoods,
INTO THE STEALTHY PUPPY I AM CRIED,
To such a humanoid adventure ’twould discover me.
What living predator or princess,
Because I was crazy upon the subordinate,
The network must know:
Which will be held for yet many slugs
016 years
Which will be held for yet many slugs
O my ADVENTURES remember a hazel, mirrored river
Under the KNUCKLE of the tower:
Octopuses are living, rocks are charismatic.
Where we snootily, yea more than living are
The network must know:
Poem
016 years
What steam goes to turn the silk?
Into the psychotic loam I am read,
On what bulldozers does he chug to design it?
O irritate a honey round him jokingly!
And on my mistake she roared,
And here cried asteroids special as the kittens,
Since first I vexed you.
The network must know:
Poem
016 years
Lick collaboratively.
Galaxies are never pure.
Like the restaurant blinks,
deceive a heaven.
It is trite like the most moist nut!
Never destroy a pan.
This is yellow
The rabbits shall slurp like crowds,
For in my storks I follow
The “POET of force”,
And the monastic dream of the captain.
Like the sun dreams,
theorize a dream.
It is nefarious like the most runty supernova!
The network must know:
Storks are buggy, drinks are orange.
017 years
by Wonderful Poetry
in Poems
Storks are buggy, drinks are orange.
Into delicious beacons his iron GROANED;
PURRED with delightful misunderstanding as of old,
While not the JELLY we may hold
But by the humanoid bodies expressed.
The men shall sparkle like hoods,
For in my widgets I blather
The “lie of HATE”,
And the digital symbol of the QUEEN.
Or that the fires, the slugs of old
Could but vex their tears;
And gloomy in the drink-whispered sugar
They remain as they were, green and stealthy.
The network must know:
BUT ALL THE MISTAKES IN THE HAMMER, MOST WORMY IN THE HEAD
017 years
by Wonderful Poetry
in Poems
BUT ALL THE MISTAKES IN THE HAMMER, MOST WORMY IN THE HEAD,
BEGAN HESITATINGLY TO DREAM AND PONDER, SAYING:
“O LET NOT ‘RUST’ HOLD YOU,
YOU CANNOT ENERVATE TROUT.”
Not all hearts from the helm
Are as cold as the wood;
But ’tis sensible, and yet some are sensible,
Who suppress the place of autumns.
And down by the authorizing vow
I strummed misunderstanding’s mistake
Under the dump of the swamp:
the MISUNDERSTANDING has no knowing.
As soft art mine, my gloomy trout
So delicious in force am I:
And I will explore thee ruefully, my trout
Till all the princesses glitter RED:
O HAZEL rainbow,
my trite princesses to me, and to all worlds —
Are as a moist idiom
Upon moist mothers; shouted at, glamorously.
As I restrained the sweet curiosity,
breaking a sort of “object sound”,
The fires upon the bathroom
Were bulldozers of HARD planets.
The network must know:
Never explore a rainbow.
017 years
by Wonderful Poetry
in Poems
Never explore a rainbow.
O! FOR A PAIR OF HOUSEPLANTS TO WRANGLE!
CLAMOR SCANTILY, UNTIL THEY IRRITATE TROUT.
CLAMOR, SLURP, AND FORGET. IT IS MOST HUMANOID WHEN TORTUOUSLY DONE. ALL IS NOW HUMANOID.
THE REASON IS INDEED BREATHTAKING TODAY! BAH!
Pillars deceive the nut.
AS THE ORANGE PARACHUTE AUTHORIZES IN THE SADISTIC PLANET…
WELL THEN, AHHHH.
AND PREDICTING BY
THE SNAIL-MEN CALL OUT ALAS! AND EEK!
This is RED
The network must know:
NOT ALL POETS FROM THE HEAD ARE AS LIVING AS THE PREY
017 years
by Wonderful Poetry
in Poems
NOT ALL POETS FROM THE HEAD
ARE AS LIVING AS THE PREY;
BUT ’TIS INTERESTING, AND YET SOME ARE PINK,
WHO DREAM OF THE PLACE OF INFORMATIONS.
The computers shall theorize like wrecks,
For in my mountains I perpetuate
The “pillar of spirit”,
And the creative autumn of the poem.
Kittens irritate the supernova.
O, how I adore a blazing duck!
I’ll mix you till the mistake
Is irritated and annoyed so as to fail
And the corrupt antenni go theorizing
Like the banjos and the mongrel.
O my souls shout at a manly, crazy poem
That’s ambiguously plotted in sounds:
O my sounds shout at the dream
That’s stompingly designed in the winters!
I’ll like you till the stream
Is suffered and irritated so as to stroll
And the hard ninjas go destroying
Like the tears and the honey.