Accidental drunk poetry! I just posted this into the boards, and thought I should post it here. heh. I did this about two weeks ago....
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hinky punk
Drinky bink bunk, honky tonk tinkery too, gargle schmargle gloo, I love you!
Leer fear beery gear, my ear is in my shoooooee... Try to outdoooooo... Gingery juice, hillberry puce, hickory dickory clocks, my mouse jumped into my socks, locks cocks boxes, I think foxes are cute to boot, if they get me enough loot, shoot! Piggidy wiggedy HAM!
hehe... ham.
Pork! Bork bork.. swedish chef left his weft on the cleft of your chin, I win in time with your rhyme. Lime tastes good with woody junk in my hunky toy bunky..
Salmon is SLAMMIN! I like wordy play, I can do it all day, but only if I'm in the bay, south, to your mouth, but I like it in writing, my little red riding, flower power towery timmins, the horse jumped into him in the shed, I'm in bed, with no clothes, you hoes, we watch shows, but not really in my life, it's quite chilly. I miss Philly!
I should be sleeping, but I'm not weeping(thankfully) cuz I LOOOOOVEE JEEEWWWWSSS... *laughing*
I made squash! Like Josh, only without the Juh, in a Squish, like a mish mash of hash, boiling and recoiling, my heavenly hoops, doubling loops, tricky track tracking, crack-a-lacking, someone's hack into my... system, down to my warp core breach, the vulcan mind melding, welding gelding like horse, it's a force to reckon while I beckon this call, my walls of balls unfold with timeless falling, taller than you, it's true, but I want to do this, to you, in a space where we can lay, in hay and do naughty things in the spring, continuous and never-ending, lending my ears to hear what you have to tell me, my one, true passion, jail of fashion, I'm not bashin' you but you need to hear my lips as they writhe and dip into this grip of heat waves, toes curling under as we seek the eternal wonderous moment in ecstasy, it's plain to see that it's uttering these words: those that do not move, become statuesque...
I've had a little to drink, you see, and I couldn't keep my fingers from folding, holding this keyboard with a grace that only my muscles can muster, lovingly enticing these keys to tease to please you, I surrender my body to my brain, tap, tippa tapping, lapping up the sweet nectar of this blissful kiss, which makes me miss that beautiful spirit in the other room, moving, churning, turning as I hear him talking to our friend, we bend into positions to accomodate our lives, striving to be the best kind of person in the life, wrought with strife, but also a life that we live to express and compress thoughts into a solid idea that I can keep in a jar, to break into pieces and roll into an exquisite smoke, of which we partOke in... hehe
I've written a lot, but I'm not quite... done. I've never held this child in my hands, walked on this land, Laid in the sand as my skin feels the bland stranded man, said that I can, but I will reach the top of that hill, if it kills me.
Blinky blink. DING! It's about sex, you see, you and me, and perhaps three - some like to pee, but that's kinda nasty. Anyway: sex. I'm cursed! I want to burst but not into tears as my fears melt away and turn into that sleek film of slippery juice, sliding subtly down to the next cravasse, they say it's passay, but we know better, we oughta know better. Do you know? This show is closing its doors, and I've said it before, but I'll say it again:
IIIIII... love to love you baybaaaaayy.... Iiiiiii love to love you baaaaybaaaayy...
*passes out*
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I need to write more when I'm drunk.
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hinky punk
Drinky bink bunk, honky tonk tinkery too, gargle schmargle gloo, I love you!
Leer fear beery gear, my ear is in my shoooooee... Try to outdoooooo... Gingery juice, hillberry puce, hickory dickory clocks, my mouse jumped into my socks, locks cocks boxes, I think foxes are cute to boot, if they get me enough loot, shoot! Piggidy wiggedy HAM!
hehe... ham.
Pork! Bork bork.. swedish chef left his weft on the cleft of your chin, I win in time with your rhyme. Lime tastes good with woody junk in my hunky toy bunky..
Salmon is SLAMMIN! I like wordy play, I can do it all day, but only if I'm in the bay, south, to your mouth, but I like it in writing, my little red riding, flower power towery timmins, the horse jumped into him in the shed, I'm in bed, with no clothes, you hoes, we watch shows, but not really in my life, it's quite chilly. I miss Philly!
I should be sleeping, but I'm not weeping(thankfully) cuz I LOOOOOVEE JEEEWWWWSSS... *laughing*
I made squash! Like Josh, only without the Juh, in a Squish, like a mish mash of hash, boiling and recoiling, my heavenly hoops, doubling loops, tricky track tracking, crack-a-lacking, someone's hack into my... system, down to my warp core breach, the vulcan mind melding, welding gelding like horse, it's a force to reckon while I beckon this call, my walls of balls unfold with timeless falling, taller than you, it's true, but I want to do this, to you, in a space where we can lay, in hay and do naughty things in the spring, continuous and never-ending, lending my ears to hear what you have to tell me, my one, true passion, jail of fashion, I'm not bashin' you but you need to hear my lips as they writhe and dip into this grip of heat waves, toes curling under as we seek the eternal wonderous moment in ecstasy, it's plain to see that it's uttering these words: those that do not move, become statuesque...
I've had a little to drink, you see, and I couldn't keep my fingers from folding, holding this keyboard with a grace that only my muscles can muster, lovingly enticing these keys to tease to please you, I surrender my body to my brain, tap, tippa tapping, lapping up the sweet nectar of this blissful kiss, which makes me miss that beautiful spirit in the other room, moving, churning, turning as I hear him talking to our friend, we bend into positions to accomodate our lives, striving to be the best kind of person in the life, wrought with strife, but also a life that we live to express and compress thoughts into a solid idea that I can keep in a jar, to break into pieces and roll into an exquisite smoke, of which we partOke in... hehe
I've written a lot, but I'm not quite... done. I've never held this child in my hands, walked on this land, Laid in the sand as my skin feels the bland stranded man, said that I can, but I will reach the top of that hill, if it kills me.
Blinky blink. DING! It's about sex, you see, you and me, and perhaps three - some like to pee, but that's kinda nasty. Anyway: sex. I'm cursed! I want to burst but not into tears as my fears melt away and turn into that sleek film of slippery juice, sliding subtly down to the next cravasse, they say it's passay, but we know better, we oughta know better. Do you know? This show is closing its doors, and I've said it before, but I'll say it again:
IIIIII... love to love you baybaaaaayy.... Iiiiiii love to love you baaaaybaaaayy...
*passes out*
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I need to write more when I'm drunk.
I love word play too.