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Throwup a Story

poet Anonymous

A murder hornet screaming fuck you
Made it clear in the end
I would have got every parasite off me
Tomorrow a special visitor might be coming
My sense of humour is I don’t find them funny
Someone in the background asked me about a nut job
speaking on psychos and him having three accounts
I said I didn’t know
I’ve been talking to myself mostly
because I’d look an idiot arguing with one
With myself, I manage to get on well

poet Anonymous

To be continued...

silent_sound
silent_sound
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 21st May 2020
Forum Posts: 49

JESUS!! he cut me off... JERK.. it was 90 degrees-august traffic cutting right through the city. this guy, pshhh.. he almost ran. me. right. into the meridian..
..Red Light..
..i yelled and shook my fist..
..he said nothing..
..i got out. he got out.
..i rattled off.. he....WHAP..
..hello darkness my old friend...stars and dizziness...shook my head till the visions were clear again..
..the kids sitting on the stoop drinking 40's and smoking blunts..
..did he just hit you??
..uh-huh
they weren't my heroes, they was  hungry for a fight..
..like a swarm of murder hornets covering that cab..
i don't hear the sound of fists hitting flesh everyday.
..he shouldn't have hit me
..i hopped back in..
..he shouldn't have hit me

Javajoe
Javajoe
Joseph mcmanus
Strange Creature
United States
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Joined 13th May 2020
Forum Posts: 15

Haha.  Murder hornet.    Wasps are bad too.

poet Anonymous

Sometimes if I’m visiting someone’s place
and they’ve got a calendar up on the wall
I punch the box I’m living in
like respect, it’s a good day

In a previous relationship
I had her moaning at me
that she didn’t have enough time to get up and transfer all the washing etc etc
but she had enough time to sit and watch 3 tv shows
same plots in all
just different faces and destinations

I think one of my neighbours tries to intimidate me
I don’t respond and intimidate them more
visions circle
when I’m the innocent one




Grace
Grace
Idryad
Guardian of Shadows
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Joined 25th Aug 2011
Forum Posts: 15160

Today is Father's Day in my country. I woke up thinking of the relationships I went through in my life and realised that none of them made good dads in the end.
They betrayed their spouses and abandoned their children.
Then I thought about my own father. He stayed with my mother until he died, but he was unfaithful while they were together. He had multiple short affairs with women, some of whom we knew.
He was also abusive to us, most of all me, being the introverted not so girly girl he fathered.
On this day when I try to think of any good or memorable things we had with him as children, I only remember his tale of long ago like his great grandfather's time and about our traditions.
His mother was a shaman, or medicine woman. They looked the same, cruel lips, sharp eyes, fierce. They hated each other. More so when my grandmother took me in at age 10 or 11.
He was my father though and he fed us and kept a roof over our head, clothed us etc and for that Im grateful. I think of him this day with compassion. Thank You , Vincent, father.

Taurek
Taurek
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Forum Posts: 1928

The Cocaine

The next show was at Irving Plaza, if you can believe it. The conglomerate booked it in order to test the waters.  They wondered if it would sell out.  It did.  Next, they booked the Palladium in LA.  That sold out, of course.  The Forum was next; same thing.  When MSG did the same, they decided it was time for a worldwide push.  Pink Mist was a boon for this particular branch of the organization.  See, people think the ones in charge decide what happens, but they first needed a viable product to push.  Viable being the operative word.  Pink Mist was viable.    


Danny sat back stage on an amplifier getting his dick sucked.  It was the third worst blow job he’d ever received in his life but he was so drunk and numb off coke, he didn’t even know it.  When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to come, he tapped her on the head and pulled up his skinnies.  Out in the main hallway, he found Will.

“Yo, bitch, where the weed at, fool?”  

“Up your ass, faggot.”

Danny grabbed and felt the inside of his butt cheeks through his jeans.  “Bullshit,” he said, “it ain’t here,”

“Fuck pot anyways, man.  I got what you want right here.” Will said, feeling around in his jacket pocket.

Danny stood there watching him shuffle through his pockets for thirty seconds as assorted groupies and hangers-on passed by.  

“Man, Will, all you’ve got is a little dick.”

“No, wait; I have something else, too.”

He shuffled away for another thirty seconds.

“See, I’m right, all you’ve got is a little dick.” Danny said.

“God damn it!  I think fucking Bea took it.  God damn it!”

“Lil’ Drill Will, wassup?”

“Where is that bitch?  Have you seen her?”

“Nah, brah.”

Will took off yelling down the hall for her.  Danny took what Will was looking for out of his own pocket - pharmaceutical grade.  He dipped his house key in the baggy and snorted it in full view of everyone.  Nobody noticed.  He dipped his key again and suddenly, Julie the A&R appeared beside him.

“Is that what I think it is?” She said.

“Yeah, it’s cocaine, babe.” He said, sniffing up the second dip, “You want some?”

Julie looked up to see Will frantically running by screaming, “Bea!  BEEEAAA!”

She looked back at Danny and grimaced, “Okay, but let’s go someplace less conspicuous,” She said, grabbing his arm.

She led him to another backroom as he tried to balance another bump on his key.  Half of it fell to the ground and smeared across his cheek before it reached his nostril.  When they got to the backroom, she licked her thumb and wiped the cocaine smear off his face, and sucked it off her thumb like some sort of pouty infant.  Danny nearly creamed his jeans right then and there.  She was about to accomplish what the groupie couldn’t.

“You wanna just dip in or you want me to chop some lines?” Danny asked.

She started looking around the room, trying to find a surface to chop lines on.  When she couldn’t find one, she pulled out her own keys and dug into the baggy.    

“Damn…” she said, sniffing up the back drip, “It’s too damn bad.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s too bad he can’t come with us.” She said, sort of looking off at something, not quite acknowledging him.

“Who’re you talking about?” He said, looking around the room.

“…but it says he won’t change.” She said.

“What…what are you talking about?  What’s wrong with you?” Danny said.

“…but, you know, what’s he really good for, anyway?” She continued.

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” He said, freaked out, “Who’re you talking to?  Who’re you talking about?” He felt like he was going to slap her.  He dug back into the bag of coke just so he had something else to do with his hands.  When he clipped his keys back on his belt loop, she took his hands into hers.

“Do you have a plan for the future, Danny?” She said.  Her hands were warm and soft and he was distracted.  The future?






poet Anonymous

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Javajoe
Javajoe
Joseph mcmanus
Strange Creature
United States
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Joined 13th May 2020
Forum Posts: 15

This is amusing and also strange.  Like it.

poet Anonymous

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ImperfectedStone
ImperfectedStone
The Gardener
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
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Joined 10th Oct 2010
Forum Posts: 1345

I ate my fist one Christmas. My Father, stinking of Port and onion gravy was kissing the cheek of my Mother. She had hair the colour of Poundland tinsel and it laid as bodies after war. I suppose I could have let it tumble, the usual clicks and whistles however I, for a moment, desperately wanted to savour it. Him - home unharmed and present. She - smiling at him as though she loved him and my brother not hiding Yorkshire puddings in his hooded pocket but watching on with the same wonder as I. And so, I did as anyone would with a nervous tick, of course, I ate my fist.

poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

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poet Anonymous

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