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deepundergroundpoetry.com

69 Crimes to Get Young with my Tongue

The young one in me died,
Tongue-tied, run to fight
But he was underfed since age five.

Instead rage learned to ride
And every page earned was a fright.
Uncaged he discerned vice
From glistening ice

Still gets triggered when he figures
From listening twice what's sickening and not right.
Groundbound in surround sound he stays low
With every flow of clever prose

Because his sight has to stay tight
And trained like white stains under black light.
A hundred tracks that grow
Unwell but complete and indiscrete flow

Dripped quick across motel sheets.
My scat like an alley cat
Rallies fast and I land on my feet.
Sadly I grew colder trading vision

For bolder decisions like a soldier's wisdom.
Too much left behind
So my blues is bereft in every rhyme
While the truth tests my mind

Keep congruent and invest divine.
Blasting friends and enemies with zen
Spending mental disease over the shoulder
Like a pair of knees

Feeling the climb of a kneeling 69.
A hand stand necessary
To keep a stance steady and wary.
My kind flicks sex in the stature

Of my chatter faster
Than collected natural disasters.
Putting pen to crime after,
Mastermind the ascending lines

Offending rhymes with a gushing gash-obsessed patter.
Rushing past blessed testaments that matter.
What's around is all a distraction
Like Andrew Jackson's stonewall actions.

I'm stoned and so I stall and stay on passion.
My dome is all hurried and urgently
Surgically squirrelling every hot rub
And subject in dub step and subtext into fractions!
 
The tip of my mind is back on!
Slipping out of a fine grip
Unwinding after the jizz kiss.
That was the last vision blasting

While pushy pussy lips were puckering quick
Fluttering from each kiss, rubbed between fingertips.
What happens when an orgasm gets the skin flaps happy
And they happen to be slipping like shifty brine?

The spasms of 69 and kicks that grind
Unplanned during the handstand is the riffs we find.
The difference in mine?
Is to solve the sponge-out project,

Come undone and mob it,
Tongues can rock it
Lap up the last drop of cum off it.
Holding still,

Like I told you I roll with uncontrolled will
Like what sprouts from a mouth without doubt.
A villainous woman with a willing tongue so fine,
For wicks dipped in wine. Fire flicks and climbs

Up my spine during such twitchy crimes.
Coming undone cause the breath
Left in sex makes an oral rub like a clitoral stub
Implores me more for distinct tingling

Between us because this cunning linguist
Is just winging this
Like the urgent emergent needs of virgin Mary
Being wary with cunnilingus!
 
If I may say so the original fable
Called for invoking the reign of oddities
In Angel Loki of Literati
To warily tell Mary she wouldn't be spotty

Even without doing the naughty.
God's mom didn't get it on
But she was winning good
And grinning as she should

Her womanhood without sinning with wood
Was absolved you see,
Because it was me who resolved to her pleas.
I solved with my roll without worry

The hole in her story
By investing her needs
Instead of just checking if she'd bleed,
There was blessing her to ingest my seed!

Just winging what I'm slinging now,
But watch how bringing
The escalation of the situation
In oral compensation

For her moral relations
Changes the score of the equation.
Ooooorrr you could accept the vision
Of republiChristian "education" instead.

See the public vision misled.
It's a breeze to utter derision
Cause their wisdom of truth in bed...  
...lacks cred! Even God's mom loves oral.

I'm leaving this one on and above the morals
Of sore horrible bores!
 
A sauna and ganja and more
With a Madonna-whore,
If you wanna' worship life right
I implore a trick of rhyme,

Twisted my mind for these tricky times.
This one fits every clever weathered mind
Even flicks with Frankie Stein's.
What matters in the night

Is more than appetite
But this patter is to set right.
This gentry has explored dimensions
24 to 7 and there's plenty of gore in heaven

So their painful Angels must maintain.
As sentries who adore what's given,
From spendy whores, friendly wars to more felons
They're sure to stay tight with the allure

Chasing vice, stirred
Tasting life twice
In dickshine slick and divine.
If the bit of visual riddle is a crime

Betwixt your mind's expectation,
The escalation comes
From your inner sinner relating!
If you can't stop seeing it

You'll scamper and pop to the breeze of it
Or else be hampered and dropped with ease later
Because deep relating
Is behind seething objections and hating.

So sit and whine over the shit I find
But like sex, death and stress,
Grit blinds but it fits in time.
So I'll flick licks in sick slick pics

Then lick my lips for quick quips
Dismissed in a list that pops
Like drops of cum in a line.
Often times I can't stop

My tricks of rhyme
Just kick and grind to 69!
It's no crime,
Every Mistress who ever lived

Holds it in the tines
Of her ribs
Before Earth was sold
On birth control
It's all anyone did!
Written by LokiOfLiterati
Published | Edited 28th Jun 2013
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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