I raise up
to only fall down
drown in the tears of the wallyb
for it is you that will have to be
TONIGHT
Gutless McConnell
Weaseling out
Benedict Arnold
Was much more stout
~fin~
Stumbling through the kitchen after a long day
Finding all my pots and pans in utter disarray
The predatory waterfowl into my eyes did gaze
And quoth: i am a heron i ahev a long neck and
1 Lord, you are the God who saves me;
day and night I cry out to you.2 May my prayer come before you;
turn your ear to my cry.3 I am overwhelmed with troubles
and my life draws near to death.4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am like one without strength.5 I am set apart with the dead,
like the slain who lie in the grave,whom you remember no more,
who are cut off from your care.6 You have put me in the lowest pit,
in the darkest depths.7 Your wrath lies heavily on me;
you have overwhelmed me with all your waves.[d]8 You have taken from me my closest friends
and have made me repulsive to them.I am confined and cannot escape;
9 my eyes are dim with grief.
I call to you, Lord, every day;
I spread out my hands to you.10 Do you show your wonders to the dead?
Do their spirits rise up and praise you?11 Is your love declared in the grave,
your faithfulness in Destruction?12 Are your wonders known in the place of darkness,
or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion?13 But I cry to you for help, Lord;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.14 Why, Lord, do you reject me
and hide your face from me?15 From my youth I have suffered and been close to death;
I have borne your terrors and am in despair.16 Your wrath has swept over me;
your terrors have destroyed me.17 All day long they surround me like a flood;
they have completely engulfed me.18 You have taken from me friend and neighbor—
darkness is my closest friend.>>427
have to admit I didn't realize the first emo music lyrics were written by a Jewish priest between c. 516 BCE and 70 CE
She wore her hideous pajamas
To keep me unaroused
I’m feeling kinda frisky
but tonight, I’m not allowed
She wore her flannel pants with footsies
with prints of buttercups
She’s clinging to her bedside
Those pants are staying up
She wore her facial green mudpack
To try to keep me scarred
She’s covered head to toe
And nothing will be barred
Her hair is wrapped in plastic
smells like the Fotomat
She knows I need some loving
But there’ll be none of that
She think she’s got my number, as she prepares to slumber
She thinks there’s no one dumber than me
Though it’s loving she is loathing, takes more than ugly clothing
That’s hardly a repellent for me
She wore her hideous pajamas
To kill the passion off
Fire retardant nightwear
Ain’t nothin’ comin’ off
Her silkie things are missing
Must be in storage somewhere
and for maximum effect
she’s wearing giant underwear
She’s lying there smirkin, she thinks her plan is workin
she doesn’t care that she’s jerkin’ me
But let me tell you honey, all though it may sound funny
You still look pretty sexy to me
that’s right – in those hideous pajamas
I rote a pohum
eevun thow I canot spel
I rime wen I tel.
I rate a poem
1/10
Did not make me contemplate
People always say that my security's bad, sorry for data breaching!
Users complain, sayin' take it down, sorry for data breaching!
ISC2 don't like me, 'cause I'm the spotlight, sorry for data breaching!
When they talk s***, we just be like, sorry for data breaching!
While I nodded, nearly napping.
suddenly there came a clapping,
As of ass cheeks gently clapping,
clapping at my chamber door.
“tis a visitor," i muttered,
"dummy thicc, and nothing more"
i have a shit, i have a liberal
uh! shitlib
i have a liberal, i have a retard
uh! libtard
shitlib... libtard...
uh! horseshoe theory
professor Bigglesworth
experiences a dearth
of tight little butts
oh woe - it's grows late
he may have to masturbate
In days of old,
when knights were bold,
and toilets weren’t invented,
they’d drop their load upon the road,
and walk away contented.
But now today,
or so they say,
a stink is much resented,
and so we poo upon a loo,
because we aren't demented.
> Are you sure you mean Anglo-Saxon political traditions? Like, Angles and Saxons, the people of medieval England? Were you just trying to do a dog whistle and it got a little out of hand?
“Nay,” said the America First Caucus. “To the mead-hall!”
And with great clattering of sword and shield and mail-shirts
And plunder and heavy gold-wrought arm bands from their lord,
They went to the mead-hall, the shield-hall, the stronghold of Donald
And unfolded their minds, thus.
“Absolutely we meant Anglo-Saxon political traditions!” cried they
Shield clanging on shield and helm on helm.
“What could be more American than this?”
> Did the Anglo-Saxons even know about America?
“HROTHGAR!” the caucus responded, with a loud cry. “Hlothhere!
Do not all our laws begin with an unpronounceable ‘HR,’ as befits an Anglo-Saxon?
Where is Wiglaf?! This is what we meant.
I ask nothing better than to sit in the throne-hall of my lord, ring-giver, great in arms
While a demon comes rampaging into the hall and wreaks woe,
And much do we thanes thole — this is precisely what I mean!”
> What’s all this about architecture?
“Wattle-and-daub was well enough for Wiglaf,” cried the caucus,
“And well shall it be for me, in the hall of my lord and torque-bearer!
Stone is in the manner of the Romans, and I shun it for construction.
By European architecture, I meant a sturdy timber hall,
Lined with shields, and rich with plunder.
That is all the architecture I seek, and is definitely what I meant.”
> Okay. This seems like it was pretty clearly just supposed to be a dog whistle and now you’re tripling down.
“When I spoke,” cried Marjorie Taylor Greene, hammering shield with sword,
“I weighed each word! Let us have maethlfrith!
Let us have drihtinbeage! We must make America Geat again!
We shall be ruled by bailiffs and reeves,
And we shall give way before the law of Æthelberht!
Three shillings boot if a man strike another with a fist upon the nose!
No feax-fang without sore punishment! Hearken, ceorls!”
This is the Anglo-Saxon tradition and culture you had in mind? It’s not just that you thought you were being subtle with your nativism and instead wound up committing yourself to a specific history and culture you didn’t mean to?
Paul A. Gosar lifted his long arm, making merry with his mead
And unlocked his word-hoard, the treasure of his mind:
“What culture could we crave beyond the Dream of the Rood?
The Bede is Venerable enough for me. What man speaks against him?
We must revive the ancient American art of sitting by the sea lamenting the passing of our lord.
What could be more American than alliterative poetry about tearing the arm off Grendel,
Writ in a tongue none has spoke for a thousand year?
My thews are weary. We must take down this obelisk of stone and heave up a barrow
To give glory to our great Founders who have passed.
Ea-la! My kinsmen! Ea-la! A spear-bearing host!
Of the Constitution writ upon much vellum, we seek to know nothing.
We gaze with dour eyes upon the land of freedom and opportunity
Where voting happened even a limited amount
And representative government rules wheat-lands and peach-lands.
We long instead to exult in battle with our hammered blades,
Those classic American things that are very American.
America first, obviously! This all follows!”
And they clashed shield on shield, and a great shout went up.
Mail-shirt and sword resounded with a clang, and the caucus roared,
And the roar echoed where the sea-birds
Picked the carcass of the Republican Party.
"aloha akbar", said the hawaiian terrorist
"it means hello, but it also means goodbye."
Edge Of A Ceiling
Front
O: It Thrusts Down
AD+O: It Thrusts DownBack
O: It Thrusts Down
AD+O: It Thrusts DownAnd you may find yourself
Watching Neopronoun discourse in the replies to genshin impact fan art
And you may ask yourself
How did I get here?
At the crossing 'tween
Long Lane and Short,
There once was seen
A certain sort.
Their hands hung low,
They spittled in spurts,
And long hair would grow
To cover some wart.
Those folks are long gone,
Now young ones cavort.
And they tell chilling stories
About Long Lane and Short.
six mixed pixie kids
switfly sift
sixty-six
pixie dust buckets
I
Burn
7-Day Candles, and I
SPIN
Funk like myrrh
According to the Śvētāmbara version,
Parshva married Prabhavati,
And Mahāvīra married Yashoda
Who bore him a daughter named Priyadarshana
The two sects also differ on the origin of Trishala
(Mahāvīra's mother)
As well as the details of Tirthankara's biographies
Such as how many auspicious dreams their mothers had
When they were in the wombs.
i dipped thine hands into the pond
removing grit into the beyond
now it is frowned upon
the soils not black its bronze
dirt settles down and gets gone
words form a polymerization bond
the battle i won
Please inseminate my goat, Gil,
Please inseminate my goat.
She likes it when you grab her throat, Gil,
Then inseminate my goat.
Altogether now
I'm DQN
Raised by a hen
My home, my den
Razed with a pen
Jehovah wasn’t all that they Witnessed that day, as I took a pamphlet and stuffed it down my bum crack
Following some well-lit* Acts of bloody ultra-onanism,
Her daughter - despite so many hollow years between us -
Offers burnt daisies
She died on an upright spike in an earlier life
Passed down to the wire, and preach to the choir
A long time has passed since the war within
A soul laid bare through coded ceremonies
After only five to ten well-lit Acts of gory ultra-onanism
She was LED to think of it in such gauche terms as this
The way Yahweh relaxed input
The way fluid ignores her bath
*light emitting diodes (LEDs)
uhhh ding dang
uh doo doo
dang dinga
braaaaappfffftt
dooodoo poopoo
Your pulchritudinous puffs
Are imploding my tympanics
Please purchase a pop filter
Posthaste!
A love song of Shu-Suen (Shu-Suen B): translation
Man of my heart, my beloved man, your allure is a sweet thing, as sweet as honey. Lad of my heart, my beloved man, your allure is a sweet thing, as sweet as honey.
You have captivated me (?), of my own free will I will come to you. Man, let me flee with you -- into the bedroom. You have captivated me (?); of my own free will I shall come to you. Lad, let me flee with you -- into the bedroom.
Man, let me do the sweetest things to you. My precious sweet, let me bring you honey. In the bedchamber dripping with honey let us enjoy over and over your allure, the sweet thing. Lad, let me do the sweetest things to you. My precious sweet, let me bring you honey.
Man, you have become attracted to me. Speak to my mother and I will give myself to you; speak to my father and he will make a gift of me. I know where to give physical pleasure to your body -- sleep, man, in our house till morning. I know how to bring heart's delight to your heart -- sleep, lad, in our house till morning.
Since you have fallen in love with me, lad, if only you would do your sweet thing to me.
My lord and god, my lord and guardian angel, my Cu-Suen who cheers Enlil's heart, if only you would handle your sweet place, if only you would grasp your place that is sweet as honey.
Put your hand there for me like the cover (?) on a measuring cup. Spread (?) your hand there for me like the cover (?) on a cup of wood shavings.
It is a balbale of Inana.
can barely remember when this was, but
this one time i wanted to visit monticello because it wasn't far and wouldn't take me too long, but
it turns out you have to pay for tickets which is fair enough i guess, but
that would have put the trip over budget, so
Well you finally funged my monkey
Yes you finally funged my monkey
Yes we finally
funged your
monkey
N-F-T
Bereft of QUALITY, I drift alone.
The Internet no longer provides a home.
Bereft of options, I masturbate to Pone,
Until I degrade into a filthy gnome
With ears full of porn noise drone.
I'm so alone
And it's late at night
I hope no one phone
While it's late at night
I may have found why every Swiss I've met has been a bitch
It's not as if the banks are making normal people rich
I miss you little strawberry, now you're so far away
I yearn for your enormous tongue each and every day
With texture like a peanut shell, you tickled every cranny
You guided me through Penis Hell and then I licked your fanny
I moistened up your USB, you did the same to me
The way you blocked my air supply was truly ecstasy
You left your sticky residue, it tastes like fine French wine
I close my eyes and fantasise, our bodies intertwine
Come back to me hot mama, I think you're really cool
I know it's an acquired taste, this semen from a bull
I'm sorry that I made you cry, the spunk was just too fizzy
When you left without a word you left me feeling dizzy
So come back honeybunny, I want all your saliva
If I don't have you next to me, I don't think I'll survive-a
Some shitty goatse poetry, courtesy of the Sageru IRC GPT3 bot with some mild cleanup courtesy of me.
The initial prompt,
gpt3: give a long, highly verbose description of "goatse" in 19th century poetic language
was given three times, and the three poems outputted edited together into this:
Oh, goatse, what a sight to behold!
A most peculiar and curious sight,
A sight that would make one's heart grow cold,
A deep, dark cold that fills one with fright.
A gaping maw, wide and deep,
An immense hole that will cloud your sleep.
A most curious sight, a sight to behold,
A sight that would make one's heart grow cold,
A sight that would make one's stomach churn,
A sight that would make one's courage burn.
A most curious sight, a sight to behold,
The sight of a man with a gaping hole.
A man, with his back to the viewer,
His posterior exposed, a most curious pose.
Hands stretched wide, wide as a sewer,
A sight that would make one's stomach close.
A most curious image, a most curious sight,
A sight that would make one's heart take flight.
A man, with his back to the viewer,
His posterior exposed, a most curious feature.
The maw of a most horrific creature.
A man with a gaping hole in his backside,
A man with a gaping hole that was wide.
A most curious sight, a sight to behold,
The sight of a man with a gaping hole.
A man with a gaping hole that was wide,
A man with a gaping hole that was filled with pride.
A most curious sight, a sight to behold,
The sight of a man with a gaping hole.
A man with a gaping hole that was wide,
A man with a gaping hole that was filled with pride,
A man with a gaping hole that was filled with dread.
A most curious sight, a sight to behold,
The sight of a man with a gaping hole.
A man with a gaping hole that was wide,
A man with a gaping hole that was filled with pride,
A man with a gaping hole that was filled with dread,
A man with a gaping hole that was filled with shame.
>>461
Definitely going to be sharing this one with the literary society.
Watching the shrinking friend list over the years
Inactivity and no chats
Antisocial network fading away
Fading away
Suckin me off in the bathroom
Stuffin my ass with his dong
Fillin me softly with his cum
Fillin me
Softly
With his cum
Spendin my whole life
With his schlong
Fillin me softly
With his cuuuuUUUuuuuUuuUUUUuuuummm
piss on the floor.
shit on the door.
when you get bored then just do it some more.
my rhymes are piss poor
I cannot be ignored
prepare to get blasted
its a full on piss war
hey dough kyun I have not been here in a year or three or five I forgot it existed
here is my rhyme I wrote it in a minecraft book just today
Here mid the 'ther
thou quondam were
attending to thy drubbing
I came, you went
to heaven sent
now part thy loins for rubbing
For what's a flow'r
at any hour
if not for bees to cherish
Your eyes alight
your pokies bright
your pusy (sp) glowing garish
I see your need
thus 'llow me Sneed
ere I give you the Chucking
Your lips may purse
let slip a curse
just 'llow me do the fucking
Thy burning lips
'twixt netherhips
are screaming for a dicking
Thy bean is swole
thy mind unwhole
thy clit shall get a flicking
>>467
my book has sneed in it as well
This city is lonely without you.
It's a sickening thought;
reminds me of a shitty Rupi Kaur line
that I scoffed at in a shitty cafe.
I didn't know you, then,
so it was easy to laugh at the woman
who, shit at writing as she was,
had somehow touched the core.
The flailing, feeble attempt of mankind
to capture that wordless feeling
inflicted by the ones they loved,
that swelled in their chests
and filled them so wholly,
and left them so empty--
just watching someone try was
a deeply moving sight.
This is a haiku
OP is a fat faggot
Longcat is long lulz
And the crowds below kept weeping
as my anus went on seeping,
dripping freely without cause,
bathing all in brown applause.
To set the mood
Firewater in the morning
Being a pseud
Never felt so smooth
Rhoda was in a Dreadful State
When She got Raped
She expressed her life
With 2 Tone Vibes
She Might now want to vape
If She Still alive
Shell never get over that Rape
Its Just the Same olde
Show
With a man that Knows
How to linger then finger
God our World is So fucking Sick
Im Glad Im Into Dick
What Women who Reads this
feels like a olde Boiler
Pecker's set to testify, a hopeful sign,
At Trump's trial, shedding light, a promising line,
His impending testimony, a storm on the rise,
Bodes well for Democracy, as truths materialize.