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it was warm
for a winters eve
unusually warm
but damp very damp
birthing a persistent
midnight mist that
crawled over everything

avenging
halogen angels
flitted down from
streetlight perches
skidding through
bare limb bars
of broken trees
roped in by sagging
telephone wires

skulking
seraphs
joined
ebullient
neon auroras
laughingly
brake dancing,
jittering away on the
pock marked rims
of hip hop streets

the fine drizzle
descending from the
black urban heavens
splayed holy water
over the bodies
of anything
that moved; and
layered mounds
of transparent beads
on all inert things
chiding those yolked
to weighty burdens
to seek relief of
a much needed
breaking point

our
slouching city
mired in a cycle
of a prolonged
historical rut
beavers away
to lift the lid
on tomorrows
tipping point
in a desperate
labor to stop
tripping over
itself...

a dinged up
Sentra’s
flashing spinners
twisted round
our dark corner
nearly clipping
our troop

inside the
yakking low-riders
scuttled along,
their hidden ***** eyes
cruising the stoops
and cyclone alleys
scoping opportunities
for the next
jolly hustle
to feed
a growing
angry fix

tonight
Mother Nature was
running a *****
to the wall third shift,
manufacturing a
stationary low
of gagging precip
churning volumes
of Vulcan smoke
conjuring
convective spirits
from all the
dim places

emanations lit
the balmy January air
rising from
stubborn gray patches
of despoiled snow
and rancid ponds
organic gutter water
composting
in distilled pools
awaiting leakage
through flotsam
clogged sewage grids

Paterson’s
litter police
could close the
city’s budget deficit
if all infractions
were properly cited
and paid in this
neighborhood

this queer elixir of
rising vapors from
evaporating snow
escaping the cracks
lining the bowels of
mordant streets
joining descending
screens of billowing mists
blurs boundaries of light,
diffusing temporal time

people and things
lose precise definition
reducing sentient beings
to moving silhouettes of gray
photographic negatives
framed in dribbling palettes
of pastel hues

our
5th Ward mission
planted in the
hub of a neighborhood
still holding on...

Old WASP’s
of St. Paul’s
long ago
winged away
from this
princely
Episcopate
principality

the abandoned
conical nest, its
chambers filled with
the mud of 50 dead rectors
precariously clings
to its shivering
boulevard corner

its endowment depleted
its earthly treasure rusting
grandiose Tiffany windows
remain the last legacy of an
opulent faith now
shamefully rattling away
in moth eaten frames

once icons of
adulatory reverence
the final sparkling asset
of a distressed religion
begs to be monetized
by flummoxed vestrymen
yearning to extend
a stewardship
over a dissipating
ESL flock

distress in the hood
parades down Broadway
in all directions

a few blocks east
a shuttered
Barnert Hospital
transfigured into an
urban enterprise zone
for health-care privateers
working overtime to
extract federal
corporate welfare
rent subsidies
dutifully fulfilling
fine print obligations of
Obamacare legislation

Old Mayor Barnert’s
namesake synagogue
once hard by
City Hall
is long gone
its absent footprint
now centered by
a thriving
White Castle

near Broadway’s end
on the outskirts
of Eastside Park
Art Deco Emanuel Temple
the last anchor
for the city’s Judaism
lies vacant
awaiting a renewed
purpose

fraught with irony
a thriving Islamic Center
stands juxtaposed
across the street
from the old
Hebrew Temple

we wonder what
will emerge
from the
hallowed chrysalis
of decommissioned
Emanuel?

rumors of a
Great Falls Art Center
trickle like a leaking faucet
failure to secure a mortgage
in the post credit
bubble pop economy
dams the possibly
of a new centers
coming to fruition

will
the city’s
changing
demography of
reverent Muslim’s
genuflecting
across the street
take time away
from prayer to
patronize a venue
offering decadent
bourgeois jazz and
risqué reviews
of retro Borscht Belt
vaudeville?

when Constantinople
became Istanbul they
converted the Christian
churches into mosques

when the Inquisitioners
drove the Moors from
Granada they converted
the Grand Mosque to
the Cathedral of the
Incarnation

what incarnations
will this city’s
twilight bring?

As Byzantine
begets
Constantinople
begets
Istanbul
the links
in the Silk Road
spanned west
to the new world
of mechanized looms
powered by
Great Falls
raceway water
and a distribution
and procurement
chain anchored
by the Morris Canal

Capitalist
modernity
begets
our Silk City
it also bespeaks
its demise

in the courtyard
of St. Paul’s
a muffled chorus
trawls the thick air

a posse of pimps
done wrangling
their stables
of $5 ******
sing reveries to
the evening haul

midnight lullabies
of corner crooners
lift a Capella hosannas
from the dark armpit
of an alley behind
the Autozone

“i said
you say
what can make
me feel this way
my girl”

juiced pimps
cashin in
livin large on
a skanks
50 cent haul

the trade in flesh
of distressed
human capital
remains a
growth industry

Music Selection:  
Temptations, My Girl

jbm
3/1/13
Oakland
Part 1 of extended poem Silk City PIT.  PIT is an acronym for Point In Time.  PIT is an annual census American cities conduct to count the homeless population.  Paterson NJ is nick named The Silk City.
Michael Marchese Jul 2018
If I could simply overcome
Possessive nouns and vowel sounds
I would not need to study ******
Heavy lies’ beheaded crowns
But you make martyrs with your charter
School exclusive service sector
To systemically condemn me
To the destitution nectar
Of the corner story *****’s
Potential Cinderella caged in
The statistics of the mathematic
Overdose equation
Comatose’n like a Holy Ghost
Of tranquil ranking party skanks
Whose tanks plan out the projects
For the boys still shootin’ blanks
And then the slavers liberate
Some nation-state of god forsaken
Oil barons salivate
To taste the poison Apple’s stake in
Stock in stuffer markets takin’
All the products people makin’
Privatizing profit-docket lawless
Mother Nature rapin’
For some scarcity disparities
In wealth I can’t attain
You keep me feeding on the bottom
From the top, you make it rain
So as the brains continue drainin’
In amenity dependency
I tinker with the inner-machinations
Now the enemy
You’ve made me out to be you see
My generation’s future’s bleaker
Than the past in full HD
Johnny Noiπ Aug 2018
Igor was torn  between casting
         the body of a girl
         or young woman,
         that was merely sexually attractive -
or whether to employ a procession
of young nubiles as       secretaries;
now that Natalia had thrown him over for Ivan,
he needed  a girl or young woman
who was sexually mature;
      possibly even suitable for marriage;
     sexually mature; sexually attractive,
desirable, ****, luscious; marriageable;
                  informally, beddable:
Ivan constantly surrounded himself
w/ a posse of nubile young women,
to forget,      that's what Eli needed to do;

mid 17th century: from the Latin nubilis
‘marriageable,’ from nubere,
                      to cover or veil
      oneself for a bridegroom;
     from the nubes  the ‘puffy cloud-like nips’
                     of a child bride;
                           [risqué]
                           photos of coeds of the
                                   fifties & those of
| ***-trafficked nubiles
           from last week; |
       glamour isn't glamorous;
as GMO skanks get injected
w/ female growth  hormones
                                    just in case they
                               decide to
        to be mothers someday
        slightly indecent or liable
to shock, especially by being sexually
suggestive; "risqué humor"  ribald,
rude, *****, Rabelaisian, *****, ****,
earthy, indecent, suggestive,
improper, naughty,   locker-room;
******, *****, ******, crude, adult,
coarse, obscene, lewd, *******;
blue, raunchy;             off-color
"risqué stories": mid 19th century: French,
                past participle of risquer ‘to risk’
kirk Oct 2018
Ryan he likes slags called kim
I wonder if Kim's fat or slim
Is she ugly, is she grim
I guess Kim's good enough for him

Kim she's Ryan's piece of trim
Is it because she licks the rim
Are other slags out on a whim
Maybe their filled up to the brim

Bus stops talk they say so much
They seem to have that magic touch
Slags lives scrawled on shelters hutch
Straight to the point, not double Dutch

No other slags are good enough
perhaps their skanks and far too rough
Slags called Kim, must be so tough
When Ryan does not get enough

Not slags called Julie, Emma or Jane
Jodi and Rachel must be too plain
Just try Michelle, are you insane ?
Limiting tarts is loss not gain

Is Ryan partial to whips and chain ?
And Kim obliges him with pain
Kim must be different with the cane
It's no wonder he wants Kim again

Kim maybe great, from where your stood
She's just a ****, who likes hard wood
Come on now Ryan, you know you should
There's other slags that's just as good
Inspired from the words "Ryan Likes Slags Called Kim" that I saw written on a bus stop
Micheal Wolf Feb 2014
On the door the sign it says "Open mike" come in and listen if you like

Get a drink and take a seat come listen to others things
Songs galore, old and new. If you want get up too.

But no you *** you want to heckle and berate someone, oh your special.

So special you came straight from the gym didn't shower and you stink

Your head is topped with a mersey **** oh I'm sorry its your hair

****** this and I'll do that, hot air from a skanks mouth

Well this morning I feel really good because last night I met you

My life may never be the same in fact next week I'll come again

If you open your foul scouse mouth, I'll get up and read this out!
For Megan who gave her all
Lilly Tran Sep 2012
I feel your absence in my sleep,
the two by six abyss where your body should be.
Crime scene lines in my mind stand out starkly on the sheets;
those lines of snow and desperate hoes stealing you away from me.
It's been weeks now where
rolled-up bills, razorblades, railroad tracks have become your new significant other.

The minutes tic-tocking by in my dreams,
without you they slink by so slow from my fitful doze.
I wander and wade in nightmares after smoking sheep and counting green,
the Sandman is stalking me, mocking me and I'm praying you were near.
I put the ghost of your body in this pillow
but a stuffed bag is no soldier, so with nothing to protect me, I lie awake with no lover.

5 AM: caked-up ***** cutting lines for you.
Do you feel like a rock star now?
Rocks of blow, star of skanks, putting the King in ******* pathetic.
Dictator of my days but just a distant memory at night;
did I imagine you in the sun? Did you actually sleep next to me once?

I never sleep on your vacant side.
Even while tossing and turning in the tiny hours of the night,
I can still feel the divide
from that thin white line.
Olivia Catherine Aug 2020
A tavern built on misdeeds and insurrection,
House of rascals, whisky and imperfection
A hideaway for rebels and racketeers,
Where drinks are served to outlaws and mutineers,
Where the pianist plays for pirates and privateers,
Where the wicked and the wayward can be served,
And are respected however undeserved.

It’s a rag-tag bunch of outlaws and anarchists,
A cavalcade of rough revolutionists,
So come on in my dear insurrectionist,
Welcome to our lawless little band,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.

Come and join our banished battalion,
Join our cause, oh revered rapscallion,
So calling out to nature’s abominations,
We’ve got bourbon, bombshells and indignation,
Come and wait for imminent and sure damnation,
No matter what your deviance may be,
Come and join the drunken reverie.

It’s a monument to lost souls and deviants,
A shrine to every small disobedience,
A riotous, cathartic experience,
Where radicals are safe from reprimand,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.

Welcome back, my worshipped renegade,
To the place where freedom’s sweet as lemonade,
Where skanks and outlaws, sing so intoxicated,
The anthem of the unkempt and agitated,
The mantra of the evil and of the hated,
Laughing as they sing their merry tune,
Unified by their impending doom.

It’s a testament to chaos and anarchy,
A haven for the worst of humanity,
A house of lawlessness and profanity,
Welcome to our lawless little band,
Welcome to the Tavern of the ******.
Nadia Dec 2013
Anti parents because they are hypocrites.
Mom tells me not to sleep around but she does.
Dad says I shouldn't flirt but he flirts and has cyber ***.
Hey dumb parents you messed up your marriage.
You do **** I would never do and you want me to respect you.
Hey mom take the men you meet off personals and shove them up your ***.
Hey dad take your evil ***** and all your facebook skanks and shove them up your ***.
My messed up mind is a ******* up place and is a no hypocrite zone.
Alexis J Meighan Sep 2014
The dream

Remember- Martin Luther King-

"Let freedom ring"
He grace the world with a vision.
"Free at last"
He sang of the goal to the crowd

Remember -Agathe Uwilingiyimana -

The "content of our character"
Has come to judgment
But these character are just fools on a stage

Remember -Abraham Lincoln-

King's dream would come to a peak
But 2chainz, kim, minaj  TO and those unlike him
Would push it over and watch it crash on the buffs below

Remember -Medgar Evers-

Even Langston, wondered "what is a dream differed?"
Mahalia Jackson screamed for Martin to "tell em bout the dream"
But as Marvin proclaimed "we still don't know what's going"

Remember -John Fitzgerald Kennedy-

Obama made it in but the walls of the house he resides are far from the gleaming white it claims to be.
Blackened by the administration before him, the walls just too dingy to overlook

Remember -Fred Hampton-

He said "america gave us a bad check" and the march to washington would be how its cashed.
We all saw Barak at the teller endorsing but in the end the long fall of that tall horse was the goal of the fairest man.

He wanted every valley exalted.
Instead ******* God father pizza man makes a fool of the process, and a kid with a hoodie take the hit, just like Emmit Till, a school full of babies take the hit, Twin towers in new york takes the hit, theatre full of batman fans take the hit, but guess that's living the dream.

Remember- Harry and Hariette Moore-

Malcom says by any means
Even Jimi Hendrix sang for us to grab the machine guns
"Fight the power!" Be a public enemy. What ever happen to all that?
A fist in the air and a call for unity use to use to get us up in the morning
Now this ***** running around with a helmet and some horns telling these skanks he's the flavor of love.
Ya I'll pass on that
And go with the labor of love and survive with a better understanding of what life is.

Remember -Benazir Bhutto-

Mya Angelou was a ****, *******, stripper, and thief before she  new "why the cage bird sing"
Even today with all her enlightenment she ask where is Dr King's dream?

Humans have come so far so fast but judgment and common sense still elude our sophisticated lives. What once was a dream is indeed a reality to most but that's only because the play ignorance to the issues that still plague our nation and that dream we chase is littered with little nightmares.

Remember -Emmit Till-

Lincoln started the process J.F.K started the process, M.L.K. Preached the process, Medgar Evars tried to beat the process, Malcom X was betrayed for the process, Agathe Uwilingiyimana stood up for the process,Benazir Bhutto took a chance on the process,Fred Hampton died in the process,
Harry and Hariette Moore burned for the process,
Emmit Till was tortured in the process.
All believing the dream would see them survive.

-Remember the future-
-Xin-
Ortsa McG Apr 2012
**** this.
****.
i **** hookers then rob them.
i thought it'd be a good idea.
then i realized it blows
harder than skanks **** ****.
go ahead, steal this.
it'd make a great greeting card.
olympia Dec 2012
some people say that they want to remember all the memories
the moments of excitement, anger and lust

but if those people knew what reality was really like
they would understand why all i want to do is forget

life is full of liars
full of cheaters and frauds and skanks
and no one is real. absolutely no one.

the skies are grey and the weather is dull
and dense coal black game stagger among the clouds
squawking and squealing
and staring you down with black beady eyes as you do the deed.
Joanna Jun 2012
Have fun with those skanks an hoes,
Should've let you go sooner
didn’t think you would turn out to be such a ******* loser.
Let them figure out the real you
Oh wait there’s too many different kinds of sides of you
There’s the one that I can’t let go
Then the other that got a good flow
Then there’s the one that I'm scared of tremendously
This side is anything but user-friendly
He doesn’t care what he does to me
At this point I just can’t wait to get free
Thinking to myself “Is this gonna be the last time?"
That quote is always on my ******* mind
It doesn’t help when I need to sleep
Thank god there’s a plant called ****
That makes everything okay for the moment
Nothing to this side brings any enjoyment
Until we hit the bed and another side to you is brought out
The side that just wants what it wants and then wants to be out
But I can’t blame anything on you
Because you’ve mind ****** me so bad I believe that I’ve done something to you
Like I did this to you
But oh well if this is how it ends
Then there really isn’t a point to be friends
Now that I've gotten that out of the way
I’ll just go to my bed, rest, and enjoy the rest of my days.
Peace
An end to a violent relationship.
Mr B Aug 2015
How did I get here from where I was before,
A little weekend dabble and never wanted more,
I cannot become addicted, too good for that I'm sure,
But looking back I underestimated the power and the lure,
Half a packet here and there become 1 or 2 a week,
The lure of the white powder, I start becoming weak,
Sneaky packets in the day, trying to conceal,
Then when caught, convincing people that it's no big deal,
Lying to your loved ones, lying all day long,
Hiding from everyone and singing the paranoia song,
Once I pop I cannot stop till all the powder goes,
Doesn't seem to matter that I can't smell through my nose,
Nobody understands me or what I'm going through,
To them they think it's just a joke and don't believe it's true,
But I can confirm I'm an addict and I want you all to know,
And help me get away from this evil pure white snow,
I want to stop, I want it gone, I want it out my life,
I want to be a decent Dad and have a loving wife,
******* has been so evil and sneaky in its way,
Never think that you are too good to be lead astray,
Addiction is for junkies and skanks I used to spout,
Now I realise I didn't know what I was talking about,
I've nearly lost all I love and never felt so low,
I really need you to go *******, you really have to go.
Get your noses out of that stank hole you half-man beasts.

Most of you walk around with **** and **** on your breath; Disgusting punk cuck skanks clean up, lazy vermin.
Life is the antithesis of degradation
Brent Kincaid Dec 2016
She went out dancing with her sister.
No thought of romance in her head.
A ****** on the loose in a big city.
She would end up in a stranger’s bed.
There were skanks and fancy boy ******
It looked like they were having so much fun.
Some guy offered her a cocktail so she
Thought it wouldn't hurt to have just one.

Criminals of love, villains of lust.
Blind to a newcomer's sorrow.
Heaven for an hour, home-run or bust.
Live for today, never mind tomorrow.
Criminals of love, that's what they are.
Greedy as hell,  up to no good
Acting like some famous superstar
On the trail of a babe in the woods.

Her parents never thought to teach her
How to deal with criminals of love
They set her loose among the masses
Left her in the hands of God above.
The kind of guy she met won't suffer
A single day in jail for his crimes.
She hoped she was something special
To him she was another hill to climb.

Criminals of love, villains of lust.
Blind to a newcomer's sorrow.
Heaven for an hour, home-run or bust.
Live for today, never mind tomorrow.
Criminals of love, that's what they are.
Greedy as hell,  up to no good
Acting like some famous superstar
On the trail of a babe in the woods.

This is not the imagined fairytale
Written in women's magazines;
Fighting off remorseless lectures
Was an outcome quite unforeseen.
She wishes now that she had stayed
At home to read a good book.
Instead she suffers with remorse
Being abused by a romantic crook.

Criminals of love, villains of lust.
Blind to a newcomer's sorrow.
Heaven for an hour, home-run or bust.
Live for today, never mind tomorrow.
Criminals of love, that's what they are.
Greedy as hell,  up to no good
Acting like some famous superstar
On the trail of a babe in the woods.
Vicky May 2014
There was once a parade:
a stage of pride, lies, strings attached.
Strange. Strange as it seemed.
And there was once a lad;
a little man who stood for his hatred,
his crumbled dreams all shattered;
a spider that crunched its victims,
never scared of the eyes of the grim.

There was once a parade:
a nice, mesmerizing flash of masquerade
where all you could see was nothing
but the face of a buried evil,
remaining still in the heart of a little boy;
smashing, scratching all over his door.

But never once did he dare
to step aside and share
all the little things the evil had sworn
to get a bite, a taste, a little part of his own.

O’dear little boy, little, little boy.
It was never his to toy
with all the malicious curses and black mirrors,
the malevolent hearts with dirtiest cores.

And so they crushed him whole,
the ***** skanks and their dolls,
puppets that were once his to call;
smashed him, scratched him, tore him,
until his eyes was no more recognized for its black beam.
Barbara Gordan Apr 2015
Isn't it funny
People can be cruel
But its when you react
That start calling names
People say to ignore them
Names hurt just as bad as a broken arm
And worse.
Being called a monster
Being called a freak
Being called ******, skanks, loser
It hurts.
Everyone has a demon and angel
Some worse then others.
People have problems that cant be fixed be telling them to get over it.
Telling people to stay away to each other doesn't work
It takes action.
Action won't happen unless you do something.
Make the world brighter
Not darker.
when I bomb first
betta believe muthaphukkaz
touchin the hearse
I'm cursed
with a demonic flow
puff that hydro
but my mind ain't slow though
so stroll
with me down the valley of death rows
ya meet skulls to bones
watch yo steps
fool cuz I'm prone
to ripping up ****
shoot up even ya casket
if ya dead *****
since my money itch
I gotta get the scratch
cook up another coke batch
Naw scratch that
I'd rather a raider hat with a baseball ball to gats
make ya heartbeat flat
check the paper stacks
we got more racks
than a Swiss banks
smoke the baddest danks
freak the baddest skanks
but they never get a thanks
from me
***** cuz I gotta
ruthless mentality
make fatalities
to emcees that try to battle me
ain't no little in me
I'm b I double g I to e
hypnotize y'all with bars
thAt even glisten stars
and look at the scars
across the late night
shining bright
is my organization
**** tight
taking flight
over the industry
they beneath me
like they sneaky
huh I never trusted quotes out of a magazine
but still dump on fools out my ak47 magazine
with yo head guilltione
for tryna intervene my cream
got trusted killaz on my team
from eses from Diego to the bay
black nation Jamaican to Haitan
we ain't fakin
when we rob
we come hungry as wolve packs
counting paperstacks
and eradicate wacks
givin death the ultimate thirst
cuz it's dry
***** I thought u knew when bomb
Betta believe we the first uh


yeAh verse two
just as vicious
so ******* and ya crew
bust on fools
with hallow tips
now I see my favorite color drip
red dot means ya dead
ask Craig
I got flava in ya ear
life in fear with yo family in tears
cuz they know the thugs is here
to set execution
to muthaphukkaz
that thought
they could evade persecution
reducing
the population
one by one
listen to the sounds
of my guns
it goes rat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat
now ya body fat
but back
to this fiend hustle
money I'm talking
so **** the struggle
since I was bornghetto
I'll die ghetto
and when they bury me
don't throw rose peddles
just hold up the pistols
and fire shots in the air
like ya don't care true playa he'll yeah
I'm brutal as ****
to those pushing luck
don't get struck
by my fiery tongue
once I speak
brains get hung
*** kicks more than Chung
Li with speed of Bruce Lee
Y'all can't  see me
Naw but you'll sure as hell feel me
like spirits running in the late night
blurring yo sight
I sense the fear in yo heart *****
sweats tears getting bigger
am I there
or is it just a shadow glare?
I'm evil as they come
so bow down
when ya see the Don
black Al Capone
with a mansion of my own
soon to transform
all pen ****** home
built for the war zone
so I ain't scared to die
shoot me but ya better make sure I die
cuz if not I'll be planning yo burial plot
watch for my live shots from my glock
it don't stop even when I'm gone
still reigning as champions
fire blazin sky grazzin
hell raising
in the streets
coming after crooked *** police
what's worse ?
when we drive up in a black hearse
betta believe morgues makin money why ?
cuz we bomb firrsttt
Micheal Wolf Oct 2017
On the door the sign it says "Open mic" come in and listen if you like.

Get a drink and take a seat come listen to others things.
Songs galore, old and new.
If you want get up too.

But no you *** you want to heckle and berate someone, oh your special.

So special you came straight from the gym, didn't shower and you stink

Your head is topped with a mersey **** oh I'm sorry it's your hair.

****** this and I'll do that, hot air from a skanks mouth

Well this morning I feel really good because last night I met you.

My life may never be the same in fact next week I'll come again.

If you open your foul scouse mouth, I'll get up and read this out!
For Megan who gave her all
Kristen Apr 2014
Alone again, and it’s the middle of the night.

He got in too deep and gave my heart a fright.

I’d like to look back and say it’ll be alright,

But I know the truth: it’s all over, that’s right.



I could smile and laugh like it’s all okay,

But I just lost my newest friend today.

Begging and pleading wouldn’t make him stay,

Instead I guess I’ll lie down to cry and pray.



Just like skanks lose their virtue, I’ve lost my touch.

I guess now I have nothing. I never really had much.

The look on his face was imaginable, such

Contempt and sorrow with a side of disgust.



I would never had told. Would’ve kept my mouth shut.

How was I to know he’d bark and protest like a mutt?

I made a conscious effort to lock all that up.

Tried to conceal it within to avoid this vile cup.



If you can’t keep em, forget em.

Along with him, him, and him.

Make it easy as possible to walk an’

Never let you heart get too broken.



Maybe my mom was dead wrong,

Instead of letting him write me a song

I should tell him the truth! Before long

They’d all see through me and…



No! I can’t let any of them go.

I’ll keep them all on their toes

Just as long as each of them knows

How I care for all of my hoes.
Micheal Wolf Aug 2017
I trusted a boy called Sam
For me Sam was the man
Sam made my heart strings sing
To me he was everything.

Oh Sam Oh Sam... You were the man.

We did everything together just me and Sam
Then one day I got a photo, he has another fan!

Oh Sam oh Sam.. Who the **** is she?

So I thought things over and I'm moving on.
I don't share with skanks who steal other girls man

Oh sam oh sam .. Who the **** is sam.
Johnny Noiπ Jun 2018
for a long, long time the only people
w/ tattoos were sailors, felons & *****
skanks
; now everyone's got tattoos,
but nothing's changed ; people w/
tattoos have the same mentality as
sailors, felons & the cheapest, nastiest
skanks
[mentality not actuality]; sailors,
felons & skanks come by their ink
honestly; it's not 'body art', it's a brand
like they give to cattle; i.e. the mark
                 - of the beast -
O the *****-coated skin
Of the stain-snouted ******
Such Classy vermin
Rats & dogs
Die

How ugly,
How disgusting,
Filth,
Ugly vampires that only steal
And get covered in nasty fluids
Useless prostitutes
Walking around with ***-breath
Acting like the innocent queens
Rot in Hell
You filthy abusive ******* nasty *** skanks.
Worthless pompous **** phonies you Rot in ******* Hell hahaha hahaha hahahahahaha
Useless Parasites. And Murderers of the Innocent, since they make only filth profitable - ****** to the FOREVER tortures of Infinite HELL, for enslaving the Innocent.
Johnny Noiπ Apr 2018
No one can defeat an army of naked cold-hearted skanks,
They are the mothers to us all, forgiven like saints, the baby
and the man side by side, the witch is in the well & man
named Tony appears at the end of the old era—ushering in
the new styles & tastes from Gamma; all the Crux styles
are the rage; South Koreans flock there & the skanks rule.
Brianca Jun 2014
Lately I've been so on the edge. Random people have been pushing me to the point of no return. Calling me names and hurting me. I've almost got into three fights and it's only been a week or two since you left. I can't do this. I'd rather get into those fights and win with no damage done to me; or lose and get sent to the hospital. Either or would make me feel better. I'd want to beat the **** out of the ****** skanks that taunt me. I'd want to take all of my anger out on them. Yet at the same time , I want to lose. I want the pain of a broken nose and ****** body. I can't be peaceful. I'm one foul word away from the point of no return.

— The End —