Category: Writers Block
Peace comes in many forms, and changes as we grow,
It starts feeling safe and protected in our mother's womb to riding our bike for the first time as a fresh wind blows,
It is that feeling of joy when you can finally say your A. B. C.'s,
Or the satisfaction when you finally learn how to read,
It is the feeling of pride when you first learn how to ride a bike,
Or playing a game a football as your friend yells across the field to you, hike hike,
It is the feeling of pure bliss when you experience your first kiss,
But peace sometimes can mean more then all of this,
It is that warm breeze of someone you love as it touches your face,
It is the warmth and perfection you feel each time you are in your true love's embrace,
Peace is more about freedom and less about war,
It is about love, friendship, and so much more,
Peace is seeing your aunt live another year and not let God and cancer take her too soon,
Peace is faith, hope, and love,
But the real meaning of peace is in the greatest gift sent from up above,
And that gift is love!
Peace is what comes out of my deack.
I think that was wonderful. Very nicely worded.
I remember those feelings, and totally agree with you.
Wart-encrusted sebaceous growths
Pustulating, bleeding piles are what I boast
Scabby and blistered pectoral skin flakes away
As my crushed bowels evacuate much to my dismay...
Faecal tripe - take the bite
Urinary swill - take your fill
Squeeze out the pus, perforate the rash
Munch the mouldy scabs, lick the septic gash...
Eroded crispy bowels, corrosive putrid breath
Collapsing, slushy lungs, my diaphragm pickled in meths...
Renal ulcerations, faecal gurgitations
Costive crepitations, complete anal disgorgement...
Disinterring organs, pus, urine and sewage
Thrust into your naval, to soak up ascitic fluids...
An abrasive concoction is formed in my throat
Methylated bile, jaundiced kidneys bloat
Tumorous stomach, coughing up gall
The thorax infected with furuncles and boils...
The sight of by abdomen, shrivelling and gurgling
The reek of my bloody pleura, stagnating and curdling
Cynical and sarcastic, my fetid sense of tumour
Clinical and gastric, I imbibe my own vitreous humour...
Soiled prostatic prolapse
Ruptured hernia rips your groin
Your mouth forced wide open
As you're made to chew on your haemorrhoids...
Gnawing my appendix, enteric organs glistening
Acholial fluids, coagulating and thickening
Weakened, cirrhosised liver, pumping out sludge
Of pediculosal faeces, sanguineous bile and crud...
Avulsion of salted tonsils
Gavaged with a spoon
Your scrotal sac torn open
And stuffed with ano-genital grume...
Charming as always, even if you didn't actually write it yourself. It's also utterly dispickible how you saturate Poetry's posts with your ... particular brand of humor. Either you've got something against her, in which your vileness could be seen as abuse, or you two have some prior arrangement or secret means of comunication. Maybe the length of your vulgarity is directly proportional to how much you liked her post. In which case you, Sir Toilecles, are appear utterly twitterpated.
Yes extremely disrespectful and quite immature.
It certainly was. However, I rather enjoy the way you copy and paste vile lyrics for a reaction.
I'm sure she doesn't. Lol
Do I have to be the first one to congratulate BG on use of the term 'toilecles' as a name for Imprecator?
Congratulations, BG. Some of us noticed and laughed.
this whole thing is making me laugh. Congradulations to everyone!
I'm glad someone got it.:)
I could just see it, though, in some sort of private school where Greek and Latin philosophy were taught, someone exhibiting bathroom humor in the classroom would get called out and nicknamed Toilecles for the day, or the rest of the week, or the rest of the month, by the teacher.