Image for the poem Little Jack Homer

Little Jack Homer

Little Jack Homer sat in his corner eating his porridge pie  
Along came a spider and sat down beside her as he sung to the masses her myths of an identity she denies      
So far embedded in the treachery of web lies      
Another tale to achieve fallen tears of blind eyes      
Wickedness should never stir a black widow      
When looking at greatness through the outside of windows        
Wisdom always knows the way foolishness flow      
A genital pretending to be a dick the concept, from the pate is low      
I am sure Little Jack Homer and Little Jackoff Homer have a lot to say      
I can only imagine the mind is tapped out be that it may      
That plum, just where did you pull it out from, your ass or your mouth        
Little Jack Homer, as a Nurse, I must ask you, do you secretly suffer from gender dysphoria or body dysmorphia, it takes a mighty lot to pull off being a man, when being a woman with personality disorders and mental conditions        
If you were a smart woman, under your other enchanting images you would hear the wind and listen      
You are the only one running from who you truly are      
What a perfect way to get even steven with the naysayers and still pose as a fake star      
The elements advise the universe you can only push a lie too far      
Attention seeking, the written words, the thrills      
The profile does don't fit the bill        
Little Jack Homer you are missing the lipstick and the high heels      
Hmm… makes me wonder what, who are you, you debut as a man first      
Out of the blue, then several females you birthed        
Under pretense by the pen, names, you have given them, fabrication of no worth      
There is always compensation in the comfort of madness when the mind has nothing else to give, nothing to offer, stagnated in its potential, lost in its growth      
In the barren of no perceptions, grand illusions festers, it replaces the hellish creed with the filth of mental pollution      
No simple resolutions      
I heard occasionally shit does float on top      
It still flushes in the toilet and swirls in its own slob        
Then sadly down the commode it takes the ass whips with it where it belongs in the sewer, there it should remain with all the other drops      
Most people would say they are the antagonist or the protagonist in the realm to get even steven      
Do not know if they are coming or leaving      
Under several sectors when breaking down the dynamics of the mind        
The dopamine, adrenaline, the endorphins in parallel with the Id, Ego, and Superego.      
pampering the fresco when we pretend, regress in our behavioral become blurred lines        
Modified to give futile thoughts, alter personalities, the beginning of the downfall, or uprise reinventing ourselves to the standards of giving us the ethos, and pathos, and logos      
Within that core an intellect has been computed, subjected, deregulated, severing old self with newer ties      
Sincere eyes do not open portals until the truth edges on      
Set it free let it breathe        
Tsk...tsk.. secrets will be revealed as the Cat says to the Fish      
Says to the Genie, do you still ask for one more wish      
The next time in life, strive for peace as an honorable dish      
Whereas it feeds the mind to uplift, not worry about like, without false identity tricks      
You are Little Jackie Homer pretending to cum as a man      
It is a mental disadvantage to keep fooling eyes, you cannot excuse your mental instability hoping all would understand      
The stories of a pseudo youth never happened to you, and only a sane person who know the truth of you understand the ruse      
That is a sick woman who suffers from Histrionic Personality Disorder, which continue to drive herself insane, with the games    
Making others think you have a caring brain
There is no happiness in self when you may see sunshine, and concealing your true identity behind shards of rain     
Leading intellects on, under the same personality, Little Jackie Homer, if most read and look close enough, and do not blink      
You may not see it, but it does make people think      
I suppose you never, Little Jack Homer been challenged by someone who knows your horns when you cry wolf, when you need a sympathetic detour to keep those games going on      
Same old words begin to sound like the same old songs      
It’s time to call the Ghost from the past      
To let wondering minds know the woman is parading as man, is really an older hag        
The spotlight will shine on you..        
In details always belays the Devil’s ruse      
Beware of the door you open, and you do not peep in first      
It could be someone in hiding that can send you to hell or dance in the epiphany of your mirth        
People say words hurt, is that for the person who threw them or the person who filings them back      
Either way... I am the universal to keep the balance and minds aware, and you can cash that in from the words of a sweet kitty cat      
Little Jackie Homer I mean Little Jack Homer      
Poem Based Upon The Nursery Rhyme Little Jack Homer      
Written by SweetKittyCat5
Published | Edited 2nd Oct 2022
Author's Note
The first poems I knew were nursery rhymes, and before I could read them for myself, I had come to love just the words of them, the words alone.

Dylan Thomas
The first poems I knew were nursery rhymes, and before I could read them for myself, I had come to love just the words of them, the words alone.

Dylan Thomas

Thank goodness for October... My feast of horror month.. no rules and everything goes
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