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we see the world as a whole
we talk to others like to poles
I'm sitting aside you just like a tree
let me tell you som'n, do you agree?

My entire life is all about me
my mom, my dad, my friends, I, Be!
since I'm the stack of body parts
I consider this world like my heart

the sun will shine as doubt will grow
I aint gon lie, my sun's my eyes
the more i see the less doubt be
and when my eyes roll out and blow
I stop and stare, seeing the lies
that was allowing all doubts to be

human interactions are contradictory
because heart and brain are different history
my heart for humans will always be bold
my brain for its knowledge will never be sold
so the reason of that contradiction
is that we're doing things in the wrong direction
putting our heart in interactions
brainy analyse the human nations
once we've flipped it 90 degree
human interactions will finally be free.

I see children as my fingers
and veteran as my toes
the latter have the wisdom
so I keep them at the bottom
so I can stand tall like Heroes.
Children are important so i teach them daily
I keep them accurate and let them work freely
for they are the essence of things that most matters

TV news are useless so i'll say they are my poops
commercial aren't that far cuz they are my farts
one cannot live without them both they are 2 essential parts
of the social oligo-elements, a tiny lil portion or oops!

know yourself and you'll know the world
cuz each body parts is a fraction of the herd

I think I'm talking too much you are already too tired
I'll leave you with emptyness cuz that's what got me inspired
Hida Abbad May 2014
I sell for a living.
But not the kind of selling
you do at the supermarket
and not the kind you do on the net
but the kind where I give parts of me
to strangers I will never again see.

Strangers like the boy with the pretty eyes
and the woman shedding tears
and the gentleman with many stories.

I give away the parts of me
I think will make others smile
an ear for you sir
and a part of my heart to you madamme
would you like a hand? a dimple?
Let me know because I give it all
and when you leave
don't say goodbye,
let me believe
and dream that one day we will meet again
and you will give those parts back
so I can be whole once again
for the one who would have cared
from the collection - *insecurities*
Martin Narrod May 2014
The likes of you I can't describe,
Yet I love to eat between your thighs.
The melody you spake to me
Unfolds my greatest sovereignty.
I crave to quaff all of your spit,
And swallow every drop of it.
Don't cheat me of your tasty flesh,
Those bare and supple ****** *******,
Your eyes that follow my firm gaze,
While we kiss and lick and misbehave.
I need to feel each piece of skin,
Smashing girl and boy parts over and over again.
It's such a treat to eat you whole;
I'm obsessed with eating 19-year-olds.
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Silas T Williams Apr 2014
I .. n...ing
m..e t..n ...
           ..m
     o. .. o.n
       M....ng
         p..ts
Marnelli Abian Mar 2014
Perhaps I fell in love with parts of you

That made me feel like the way I do.

The way you frustrate me

When you prefer not to see

How I look at you with sympathy,

Because she chose to break your heart

And now you’re torn broken and  apart.


The way you make my poetry stink,

because I ran out of words to think,

your name solely runs in my mind

other rhymes I cannot find.

I should write about what I feel

and stop trying to understand you

Perhaps I couldn’t and never will

Make you feel like the way she do.



The way you make me stay stirring

Until four in the morning,

Just to listen to the stars tell me

How your current heart is mourning.



I’m always here for you

    when you’re happy

     angry

     silent

     and blue.

I care for you

At least, I hope you knew.



But why is it that the more I let you see

All these little parts of me

The more you silently cry

And leave me wishing for good bye?
R Saba Feb 2014
i am not
the sum of my parts

i am my parts, still scattered
and somehow arranged
in working order
fingers scrabbling to sew
the pieces together
into this shambling, smiling mess

i am not
the whole picture

i am the pixels, the sharp squares
of almost-colour
that mean nothing up close
but look ordinary, lifelike
and solid
from far away

i am far away
a million-pixel memory
moving into the whole picture
and fitting in just perfectly enough
to fade into the horizon
as the sum of my parts
becomes just another spark
trying to ignite a dormant soul
i **** at math

— The End —