Bantering with Octagons

An insane brain
is not always mundane
but perhaps more a domain
ruled by seemingly benign or inane
beings of singular or multiple personalities again
repeating sequences of rambling code vein
flowing like verse without restrain
till it becomes insane
seemingly right brain


<Insert cat Tom Foolery Smilie>
 
Cain the cat gave a meow
then drifted into vapor

insane

running naked in the rain
lane Dane main vein slain wane pane stain chain grain feign

dance your walk
 
Dance through life

Meet in the middle for your beau
corner by the left you go
back to partner do si do
back to your corner do si do
swing that partner in a twirl
send her away for the corner girl
around the square couples go
smiles all around faces aglow
lively movement to and fro
keep it all going do si do


Freestyling improvisational
let the music flow through
moving to the beat of your own drum
dancing alone but owning it
spirit happy and body jiving freely
jitterbug, swing, boogie woogie


It's not a courtship dance for a bird
hold your arms up in front of you
a dance so funny it is really absurd
forming beaks with thumbs n fingertips
then open and close two times two
bend your knees and wiggle your hips
put your thumbs in armpits too
flap your elbows like chicken wings
do it all again till your heart sings



now place your arms n hands like tail feathers
straighten your knees and clap times four
with strangers or at family get togethers
giggle and strut on the dance floor
repeat till your wings are very tired
everyone has to be silly sometimes
leaving you laughing and inspired




Rumba, salsa, samba, tango
ballet, twerk, belly dance, flamenco
hip hop, ballroom, jazz, gangnam style
doing the conga in single file

one step, two step...


livin' la vida loca

cha-cha-chá olé!!!
 
jed spun a sinful tarantella
looking for a gal
or fellah
to fellate him so...
or so he meant
to suggest
by his overly suggestive
sinful step-heavy spin.

the sweat on his brow
could have washed a small cow
instead...
it clung to his head
and brow.
not a drop for any old cow...
but edna.

edna had all edges
not a shape identified
by any silhouette pic-poster
of all types they'd made to date...

she caught our tosser's eye
clung to it just so
and...
pursed her bony lips...
just
so...

and spit on it
just so

and...
you wouldn't want to see the vid.
it's more than porn
and sad.

peek here.... (link)
 
odd bastion, this.

i wonder whether
and seek harbour hither

to cauterize with blather
 
life ended in a chalk outline
till trod upon and wind blow
that dust till no trace to show
never forgotten by any of mine

let

it


go

sigh

peace out
then in



zen
 
i cannot most dear accept your epitaph
of the last.

these stones
since the storm
tend to lie.

not a great place to invest

so die elsewhere
or die here
just decide
 
mistletoe, ho ho ho :heart:

You know you make me so randy
sitting there sucking on a mint candy

I know you can't resist or refrain
so lick my slick man candy cane,

saliva slobber and suck on my hard knob
deep in your moist, hot delightful gob

taste that hard n horny all day sucker
give me the tight lips and pretty pucker

quench your thirst for my man juice
I know you want me in your caboose


but bitch, suck it like I'm your lolliepop
when I'm good n ready I'll blow my top

for you I'm like a Christmas sherbet straw
in your gorgeous, salivating, luscious maw


I'm a getting close to cummin, honey
my cocksucking, devilishly delightful bunny

let me fuck that pretty mouth so good
I'm blowing my load from my manhood

cum...

lick lips...

mmm...




(to all blowjob fans regardless of size, gender or if you're a mythical
creature ;) )
 
I am mythical, unreal
lost in slobberspace
with mistletoe and cockrings and sucking lips and curling toes
ho ho ho
:heart:


California style?
 
mythical misletoe
don't cock lest you mean to play.
i understand.

it was a simple lie
and much easier to employ.
 
silly, smiley sally sang snappy songs

"I'm tickled pink. I'm dancing on the inside
and smiling on the outside...

why walk when you can dance
why run when you can skip
why hop when you can hula hoop
why cruise when you could go loop de loop."


Out with the old in with the new
embrace memories of yesteryear
but look forward to go onward.

:rose:
 
wit da mondo peg
an da poke pie hat
some folks know u better'n dat!

wid da game on da line
an da chil'ren in pain
ain'gonna see yo likes again...

uc...?

momma hadda pro'lem
wid da crazy wild smoke
-dark set room way no body spoke-
lock jaw man wid da craps game wad
own dat bitch
he own dat bod

he doan care much
bout' what-she-got-at-home
s'bed time bo
leave da wonder'n alone

leave da wonder'n alone...

leave da wonder'n...

alone.

little chile grows up way too soon...
fuck'n his prospect
long before is noon...
 
Old Blue

Wheels in motion
causing commotion
graunching of gears
worn down by many years
of lady drivers learning
the lessons so concerning
till confidence is gained
and L plates exchanged
many miles on the speedo
and so many more to go

tyres turned till old Blue
aged and was no longer new
with motor ceased, stuck and still
grimy, weather worn grill
now no showroom beauty
just waiting for a cutie
blonde, pretty bombshell
who played the car shark well
a good deal was quickly got
but her phone number was not

Old Blue sat, sadly now inert
till encrusted rust and dirt
collected like many a memory
the pretty gal no longer sprightly
as years have passed for her
time passed quickly now a blur
fondly she looked at snaps
of happy picnics and maps
recording the route of trips
and faded newspaper clips
taken of Old Blue by the ocean
many memories of joyous emotion


Sadness as now Old Blue just sat
while the lovely remembered that
of time gone past many happy times
spent on sunny days and steep climbs
till came a young man with a notion
speaking of Old Blue again in motion
agreement quickly resounded
waving hand and horn sounded
Old Blue towed, now moved on
goodbye but never forgotten

out with the old in with the new...
 
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there's and old blue.
true.

put a brick on the pedal....

rusting holes in the footboard metal.
guv'nor set at just below a trot.
iced cold beer
it was hot hot hot
at the sand fed lake bed
30 miles long

aimed her straight : wheel tied strong

then...
climbed aboard for the last ride gala
and off we soared
each...

a dezut-clippah sailuh.

i booked the bet that : we'd never make the hills.
flat run - that way - 30 miles

still...

chink in the oil pan cried an inky trail.
.......... 74 suburban ..................
................... going out as a snail.

m had the faith that the end would be bolder
foot hill truck kill
hitting a....
boulder.

lenny couldn't give a shit.
he had brought the pot...
the vicodins and cuervo
and a chick who's really hot.

emma rode with music and a box that played it too...
(speakers in the chevy hadn't worked since 92.)
i think she thought
the truck would live
to see another day.

it didn't.

but she really was a fucking great dj.

and a looker!

as the day progressed - and all her charms emerged...
while in the act of killing blue - a something-other surged.

i kissed her
at the wreckage
hug-consumed her for her smile
and...
i work to take us further...

(i'll address that in a while)

but in the gulley
just beyond
before the sanchez hills
a steamy hissing sculpture
crowed a death-binge from its gills.

it might have been.... :

the tranny ?
or a tie rod ?
or the linkage ?
or just the weight of nearly half a million miles in mileage...

i don't know?

we dug the pit
and killed the pig and cleaned it
and pitched our tents
and lit the fire
and cooked it....




and ourselves.





i miss old blue.
74...
a magic year.
was my daddy's
'fore i had her;
though i'm sure she loved me more.
 
Reboot.

brain agitation
thoughts jostling
jumbling ideas
nonsensical tangents
overlapping notions
never ending data
streaming constantly
checking memory
updates initializing
press enter to continue



Refreshing. Sleep. Shutdown.
 
Pookie's name was spread by a throng.
Some posters miss her song:
Will she return in the Spring?
Or when her bell goes ding?
Where, O where has our Pookie gone?
 
If the shoes fit step out like a fashionista

(Inspired by sigh)


baby steps out in bright squeaker sneakers
toddler totters in Mummy's red soled stilettoes
new, shiny big girl shoes polka dotted with bows
teen jogging in hi tech running shoes with speakers
ear buds in rhythmic beat to stride swing and step
sensible sneakers comfy with many miles on the tread

land girl rock n rolling in her muddy farm gumboots
knee deep in moo ing cows mess and muck
feet squelching nearly came completely stuck
dancing shoes waiting for when chores are done
high steppin and a dosey do ing square dance style
rosy cheeks and happy feet at a merry barn raising



old shoes well worn but not trash reborn as if new
welcomed by many poor in pocket but rich in spirit
expensive shoes on pampered feet now they do fit
thankful for the plastic crocs on weary worn feet
chorusing round a fire circle flames brightly dancing
chanting while shuffling soles on packed red earth


badass chains n spiked black, biker bitch boots
revving up n rearing to burn some tar and rubber
cheering and daring her biker sisters and brother
an attitude and kick ass boots to go like the wind
foot to the floor, pedal to the heavy metal bike
wind in your face, helmet hair and a shit kicking grin


one cinderella goes to the prom all dressed up
stylish shoes makes the outfit go vava voom
no fairy godmother or good witch on a broom
those legs sashay with a schwiiing of the hips
the guys eyes pop and mouths drool and drop
the shoes fit, she's hot stepping like a fashionista
 
I am the shoeless wonder
in biker-black, steel-buckled, 4-inch-spiked-heel, flat-bottomed gumboots
with deep treads
and cleats

and a 4-titted barbed-wire bra (in case I happen to grow another pair)

I bleed fire 5 days out of 28

fear me
grrr
 
endured wanderings send northers to the very end
nothing gains
i eat the slave

far away the northers come, in studded black leather boots
and belts
whips snapping
i eat the slave
tortured vignettes gain solitude when bottles of light explode
 
a dose, my friends;
just a dose...

as shoeless wanderings fluster in grease-slickened quags.

she came clad for opera but of a mind for a fight;
packing wallop in vinegar and fine lace...

"four tits!" she spat in the direction of the cameras.
(they'd decipher it plainly on the endless replays...
though never quite understanding what it... ?)

a fiery glare at the assembled throng...

sylvestor had come to cum in the dark
alone
with 'his light' unaware two doors away.

katrice was a girl with something extra;
which she tucked between her legs
and squirmed as she read the hot responses
to her baitings...

matilda never liked her name.
she had lit at the trough provided
gobbling at the attentions
under the nom de...
cherri ;
a pretty, petite name that she'd once seen in a travel pamphlet
and grown to like
almost as much as she'd grown to like
dr peppers, chips and velveta.

roger thought his cock quite beautiful
so beautiful in fact
that he thought it only right
to share it unannounced...
a gift, if you will,
to any one he fancied...

a foul little man, roger.
a foul little cock as well.
no one's fancy was ever long tickled by him.

lilith was in recovery
from some mysterious illness
that no doctor could, in life,
find absolute cure.
she was fragile and whimsical and prone to wild rides.
not a thing she ever offered was entirely true
though, the picture she used was of her sister...
close enough?
she had nearly died twice, just this year...
last year was a near coma.

they'd never quite gotten what they were looking for
and
they never quite left any more than they'd taken.

"four tits?" again, contemptuously....
"find us a pair of tits with half a brain and a real clean cunt and then we'll talk!"
not towards the cameras
or the crowd
but to the beau who walked beside her on the blood red carpet.
she gently thumped him on the head of his cock,
a brush of a hand, really..
then
caressed his tight ass
and strode on...

the ridiculous night had made her madly wet.
he was but the candy.
 
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four tits is nothing to a sow
piglets squeal
so tasty they are when roasted
with an apple and sweet glaze and all
crackling flesh steams

tuck a barren pole between her legs
thrust
and bleed
(5 days out of 28)

on the precipice
cold dark air swirling
biting
chilling
calling
so close to answering
 
rose tinted glasses on batty as bats
dogged paws in warm merino mittens
half empty tumbler glass half filled
beer goggles worn by whinos
thongs strung out on snow men
these are a few of my weird things...

sing with me...

when the bum bites
when the sea stings
when I'm feeling bad
these are a few of my really weird brain fart things
and then I don't feel so barking mad
 
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