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The hammering of her heart when she saw Liam standing at the end of the bar such a thudding sound in her brain Helena was sure he could it over the of the saloon. Was he the man from her erotic dream?

To him, all he heard was a symphony. The koo koo clock, was going off. The t.v. in the background was static. The microwave was beeping. The shutters outside were banging from the wind. His guest gone mad, just dove out a glass window. to most. Symphony to him

4 Fun: Mad scientist Prof. Blake's mind was a bewildered of confusion. What was he doing in the lab? How did he get this buff body? Why was he so horny? When a lust-filled Ed Daniels entered the lab, he threw himself at the cop. 🧔🏾🌈

was assigned to remix by some kind of fluke. She made the pop sounds sound like an orphanage nuked. It became a b-side that nobody enjoyed. Except for me, an unpopular little goy. It was stereophonic, a glorious ten minutes of noise.

Join me in the hidden bower Eddies rise in the mist Tracing forest finger prints of gnarled bark Behemoths with feet in the earth, head in the clouds Revolving thermals makes their hair sing A symphony of leaves, of susurrus sighs A quiet canopy

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Here, the only sound to be heard is in my mind soft of flitting words

The rises in his ears. The buzzing of a thousand beating wings, the shadow and the dark against the golden and the light, the clash of arms. The thud of bodies, of wood and bronze; the meeting of enemies on fields stained by blood. The sound of glory won.

Lost in the of sound she swam to the surface to hear her own voice once more

mine *my original poem posted on 8/17/19

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Now that Mr. Peanut is gone. I hope nothing has happened to the Snuggle fabric softener teddy bear.

Long halls of glass cages Each containing a new abomination marked by even numbers 10,12 and so forth The mad scientist had grown deaf from the cries of his creations He never heard number 14 he only noticed he had escaped when his neck was split to his groin

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Let's make a to keep the prompt alive. I may have lost my will to write if has died. We can work together, dig deep and find a way. To make this super writing world live on another day.

Jed heard yells when in bed. Faces jeered him with in red. They screamed and woke him from dreams, charged and upset. Jed got up and walked his house, doused with sweat. Jed couldn’t relax any place. The slain were blurs in war. Now, Jed saw each face.

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She walked into a maelstrom. The reverberated down the hall. Other teachers didn’t look, closed their doors. Pencils, desks and chairs flew like feathers in a pillow fight. Her car called. Leave and never return. But there were bills to pay. She smiled.

King Herla led his wild men a whirlwind stead he mounted then he drove all those that followed him to hell again Hurly burly harlequin threw all into confusion then just to direct the whirling, winded, wild hunt of Hellequin

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While the of summer affairs, are washed up & forgotten like Templar Prayers & the market traders lay out their wears on apple carts, flower stalls, & the Cathedral stairs. I’ll paint your portrait mammaselle, as you throw Euros down the wishing well.

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Woke up feeling like half a man Weighing half my weight Leaving half my worth In a bloodshot land Called Yesterday Whilst the Of morning noises Rises in the daylight Seeping through the glass Of hurting eyes Half open but wholly wishing They were still closed.

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the shadow of Hades upon me laden with insecurity once our love was my surety your poetry now a cacophony cannot adapt or set myself free a ghost of the woman I used to be 🖼️Pinterest

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Envy Ivy

A story of a girl

Her eyes go through the world like a spot of light as everything is envy worthy. To see is to envy; therefore, I call her envy Ivy.

She is twenty.

Never sees what’s on her plate as if it was empty.

Her eyes always circle looking for the rich and fancy.

Ashamed of her humble beginnings, so she poses as a member of the gentry.

But everyone knows she isn’t as she talks a plenty like a naive girl from the country.

She tries her best to learn how to act, what to say, and who to kiss and marry.

Oh envy Ivy, there is no cure for your disease as envy crawled upon your heart like ivy does on the walls of the palaces that reject your entry.

Ember Eyes

The tenderness of the black eyes

Somewhere on the 100 mile road as I walked away from you, I lost my spark and will to spar.

Liberation from love is like the grey ash of a lit up cigarette. The desert chills of your absence I feel them in my bones since and now.

Your black eyes are the embers and my heart is the forest … burning .. I’ve been burning since and now.

We both know there is no putting it out. We are a star that burns across the galaxy and when it stops, it dies so kiss me .. ignite my fire and let me radiate love, ember eyes, now and forever.

VSS365 Expanded - On Love

Each week I expand upon my #vss365 Tweet that receives the most interaction. Enjoy.


“You think something this euphoric occurs uninvited? Without lingering glances, the barest of touches and the lightest of words? You think you could love without being primed?”

“If this were love, no. But you place too much value on a kiss.”

“Another, then. Please.”


“To play this out. To finish what you started months ago, when you traced a finger along my palm.”

“That was a moment’s flirtation. You’re talking about love.”

“Love can be simply physical, not an all in life-til-death proposal.”

“Is that how you see this?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Then you receive no second kiss, yet.”“Fine. Will you at least hold my hand?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Can I rest my head upon your shoulder?”

“If you are tired.”

“Do you want to get some lunch with me?”

“Sure.”“Will you spend the day with me?”

“Of course.”

“Sounds a bit like some form of love to me.”

“Friendship-love and romantic-love are not the same.”

“No, but they sometimes occur at the same time, between the same people.”“Yes. But perhaps not here.”“Then why did you kiss me?”

“Because I could love you.”“Then come here.”

“46 years old and I’ve never killed a person”
“I… s-should you?”
“Listening to this sure does make me consider it.”

#drive, #vss365

Any minute now she would walk down that aisle..


Error biocell 1382x. Viral contamination possible.

Damn, format #drive we’ll have to start again.


The wedding march stopped abruptly. Her dad marched in, the wedding was off.

Life meaningless, he overdosed that night.


Resuscitate us

for I have washed ashore

pummeled against

rock and wave

little hope left

draining from my cheek

will you care enough

or fill your cup again

with wine of misery?