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Dom 8h
Honestly spent,
That’s the way it feels
When these lids feel like lead anchors
But the Dread drags on drifting through my secrets
And I’m wide awake despite eyes rolling back.

I can’t see you
If I don’t have the paraffin
It’s too **** dark in here,
Hand me a match and a wick
And I’ll shed a light,
But beware as what haunts me will find you
In the ways that mortify,
So don’t blink for a second.

We dance like macabre skeletons
In circles with our pockets full of posies
Ignite from the heat of the sun
and with our ashes we all fall down.
Just watch me twirl in lachrymose skies
Weeping from the clouds while I
Tend to the truth.

I would die for you.
Sometimes depression makes you lose sight on what’s important
They say love makes the world go ‘round…

But try proposing without a diamond that whispers loud…
Money…

Family dinners full of smiles and fights repressed…
Money…

Cousins showing up at Christmas looking freshly blessed…
Money…

The secret to youth? It’s not kale or prayer…
Money…

Just a surgeon, a syringe, and some derriere repair…
Money…

You want the Nobel? Sure, write your thesis with flair…
Money…

But someone still paid for that tenured chair…
Money…

The kids need books, a laptop, and a chance to dream…
Money…

Also Wi-Fi, tutoring, and a school with steam…
Money…

Evolution gave us fire, but civilization gave us class…
Money…

And the biggest difference between king and ***…
Money…

You want to change the world? Start a cause? Break a curse?
Money…

Or you’ll be that guy with vision… and an empty purse…
Money…

Science needs data, equipment, and trust…
Money…

Also snacks for the lab, and a fridge that won’t rust…
Money…

Want to flirt, be adored, radiate that spark?
Money…

Or stay home, scroll apps, and die in the dark…
Money…

Even funerals aren’t free, your last “to-do”…
Money…

Because dying is easy, but burial? Whew…
Money…

So next time someone tells you it isn’t everything…
Money……

So here’s your truth, wrapped neat and funny:
Everything you touch, trust, taste, or tolerate runs on…
Money…
If this poem made you uncomfortable, don’t worry, it’s probably just your bank account recognizing itself in the mirror. Side effects may include existential budgeting and spontaneous side hustles.
How many shades of gray can you count
Staring up at the rain clouds?
Would you be able to name them,
Give them a purposeful pallet in which to contrast against
Would they go well with marble or subway tile?
Could you see it defaulting a room to a “create-a-character” meh?

Could you assign them to moods?
Let each shade or shape of the clouds tell a story
Each one or color depicts a mental illness and how it cascades in the mind.
What depicts depression, is it the darkest gray or the lightest?
How would you label the spectrum?

What of the rain?
Could we categorize how it pours down?
If it’s by its sides is it sliding into indifference?
What about the dull droll of straight down,
Is that just melancholic, or simply a chance to shower outside?
Let the natural spritz renew with vigorous remiss
And chase away sorrow in cool or warm damp praise.

Whatever the case,
However, the time is spent in malaise
Remember the sun will return,
And so too will color.
It's a rainy day and bumming me out, so this is what my brain concoted
One step back, two steps forward,
Swing around and do the dance,
Keep it fast, a little awkward
A whole world audience to entrance.

Now you've got them captivated
Up the tempo, raise the heat,
Some may need to be sedated
As they wither from your beat.

Hearts loud-pounding, foreheads thumping,
Gasping air among the shouts,
Doomsayers bleating, markets jumping,
Second guessing, full of doubts.

Quite the showman, what a show,
Media breathless wanting more,
Fans elated, bask in tow,
Others crowing, keeping score.

Just the start, watch him work,
Revelations by the day,
Not all true, surprises lurk,
Act with haste, keep foes at bay.

As for us enthralled spectators
Barely able to keep track,
Cajoled and pressed by paid narrators,
Every week a heart attack.

If we can but drown the chatter,
Keep a cool head, crack a smile,
Train our thoughts to things that matter,
Take the long view, wait a while.

Let the music work its magic,
His gyrations entertain,
Learn that life need not be tragic,
See the sunshine through the rain.

RAI 5/25
Political Satire and to help us reflect
Dom 4d
Devil’s gone and took your smile
***** deeds done marked you wild
And you change your mind like seasons
Falling down like amber leaves,
But your heart is rendered in ice —
Hoping he leaves but the
Spring blossom of your thoughts
Could not deny the summer fires that burn in you.

So give ‘em hell, let their eyes betray
By the way you work that switch in your sway
Hell hat no fury like you do
And do to me what you oughta do
I won’t protest this autumnal view
I’m going down, like a tree by axe hew
Just to see your point of view.

Oh it feels good
One more ale and I’ll meet with you pale rider
We can talk by the pits, roast ourselves by the fires
Maybe I can give back your smile
Oh ***** deeds done, you’re so wild.
Country music/southern rock inspired
When it comes
to the verdict

— no noose
is good noose
Dom 6d
Gimme a clear square glass
With that clear spherical ice.

Gimme that orange bitters
And just a spritz of water to break down the sugar.

Let me smell the aroma
Of that bottled spirit,
Perfume of aged charred cask,
And vanilla laced with caramel.

Let it waterfall into the glass,
Hugging all of the curves as they cascade down
And when you stir, do it soft and slow
Look me in the eyes,
Tell me I've been a good boy

Garnish with a zesty peel.

Let this liquid ***,
Slip down my throat
Throwing me deeper in lust
For another.
My favorite cocktail, preferably with maker's mark or bulleit.
City buses bounce and jolt
As though to loosen every bolt.  
The shocks must be missing,
A leak would be hissing.  
Or is it the potholes at fault?
somedumbbitch Apr 26
I gasp, for breath...fading away, below you
helpless, beneath the deluge, of you.
Heat rises, and steams, a rosy flush,
into pale, cold cheeks...
as you waterfall above me,
and I turn my face up to you, in gratitude.

I am a dry...arid flower...
dominate me, with your downpour.
Keep me moaning, in little, breathless gasps...
drunk, on your deluge,
lusting, for the gentle, seething weight,
of your measured, eager touch...
so thirsty, for your rain,
as you slick parted lips, in waves.

Slowly...almost painfully
I ache, and writhe
as you pour over me,
and I gulp, hard,
against your hot embrace.

Mmmmm...lover...caress my bare skin
stream, relentlessly
across the peaks, and valleys
of my dripping, naked body.

I'm so wet, beneath you.
Every dance of droplets,
across these spreading hips,
and long, feminine legs...
every prolonged, whispering touch...
every sweet, steaming kiss,
steals my breath away,
and leaves me shuddering,
quivering,
groaning, helplessly,
beneath the lick of your warmth
across these rounded, fleshy cheeks.

I die, a little more, each time
you wash over me,
As I drink you in
...unashamed of the little pool,
you've got forming beneath my bare feet,
and tightly curled toes.

I'm...drenched,
tingling, from my head,
to my toes...
soaked, but satisfied,
beneath the incredible force, of you.

...I just can't get enough, of you.
Ode, to my showerhead 🚿❤️ #prorevenge
Arthur Vaso Apr 26
I do not like them
not at all
I refuse to pay, take the fall
Oh Dear Canada please build us a wall


I tried to cross the border
no success, they said I have to pay
what?
tariffs they said
oh my, oh my for me? why?
you are ugly
we have a 25% tariff on ugly Canadians
I was shocked, as that's a lot
I showed them my passport again
please reconsider?
they looked and said *** do you not have a mirror?
for you is times three, 75%

All my mirrors broke and cracked long ago
what could I say?

No Ugly America for me
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