poetry book 3: The Hidden Gustapo, #3
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They say dead men don't bite, but I had misplaced the site, until I stepped on his toes and fell victim to his woes! There was an allergic tickle in my nose, when I encountered feathers of crows, and then I sneezed, but the crows weren't pleased at the hostile spray that blew their master's ashes away. The residents were heard yet unseen, as they expressed their revilement for the graveyard being unclean, and I was banned from Halloween!
I still enjoy trick or treat, for I trick the crows into cleaning my feet, as a reward for my feat! The crows have a new tree, but by gosh they will never be free; Halloween has nothing on me!
The shoe will always fit when it involves bought wit, however it may cost too much and thus settle for a third touch, and ice in the cold of June may welcome the third party tune! Crooked logs often make straight fires, but I won't lose my wit to a pack of liars! What they choose for themselves, they use for themselves only, but their paths are poorly lit, when faced with persevering wit! Through weather and crime, my wit has stood the test of time!
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Titles in the series (3)
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poetry book 3 - Hulgar Von Schnueff
A Tree of Dignity?
Wrong the ancient tree in every way but metaphysically, due to simple curiosity, and you may soon partake in the discovery and abundance of ancient chemistry, which may lead to an assortment of geography or radiology, and whimsically wicked wizardry and pitiful psychology!
Sure, trees are a sign of life, but what lies behind this particular prosperity? Is there a possibility of emotion? Is this a sign of devious dignity?
∞
The group has reached a stale mate and things are awfully quiet, and it is time for one of your jokes. Therefore one needs a whiskey, however it may cause me to break the silence, disturbing the state of rest, intoxicating them all, at best!
Beware, your one leg may be obliged to put a hit on its spouse, and you will be the spectacle of the house, but only for a moment though, for once they start kicking one another, you will be free to run the show!
∞
I clearly flummox these hangdogs with my splendor, but I refuse to offer a hint of remorse, as I watch one flyleaf after another being ripped from my diary, making no effort to foment their folly, and overlooking the fylfot dangling above their heads, in fear that they may completely dismantle my heirloom. All ungrateful hypocrites in this room!
Curse these histrionic peasants, for they are nothing but heinous fools! Their dynasties are a joke and they are not fit to be called Herrenvolk! The futurologist in the back of my mind assures me that they will all be shamed on the day of recollection, when Herr Schnueff’s spirit returns to complete the disinfection.
More Perception on Vanity
If you see me comment with 'Bravo!' or 'Excellent', then you know that I find no fault with a poem or story. Another problem with approving poems, is the magnitude of our group! At the birth of this group, I was able to read each poem, but now it is impossible!
I hope this answers questions about the lack of recognition, should your post not receive enough attention!
∞
Give the following some thought: what is worse? To be dead, to be homeless, to be unemployed, to suffer from a painful and terminal condition, to be in prison, to be in a mental institution, to lose our dearest loved ones, to lose all one’s possessions and money!
I don’t have all the answers, but I do know that you have misunderstood, for it is not the love for my wife, that is larger than life. Her butt is though, and as it would happen to be, my kids compare her to Barney! Someone has possessed my mind and there are thirty thousand suspects, all of whom are tortured subjects!
Now it’s time to hit the sack and seek my hidden snack! Alas, before I go, here is food for inspiration: Even roses have personalities and represent mankind. Hence my thirty thousand rose garden!
Cheerful Lord of Organ Beat!
Spinning with a glass of Captain Morgan, my mind was seated at the organ, and my fingers were steadied to the beat, as my underwear vibrated on the seat!
Hidden talent was no longer discrete! Until now these twigs stalk each chord, and with back arched and chin up, I have been anointed musical Lord!
∞
Oh dear, suffice to say, I bought innovative whiskey today, and so here I stand, facing my lounge wall with a brush and quill, one in each hand!
Let’s see, the world is twisted, and should I paint an asshole, for fame I may surely be listed!
A Cannibal's Video Distress
These videos require a plugin!
They are a menace and a sin!
I was seriously considering
Throwing these videos into my chair!
I am slightly overweight,
So they should plug in once I sit down!
A definite no to your basket diet!
Your salad makes me frown!
There are too many fruits in my neighborhood.
They run when I arrive!
The basket is very much alive!
And as for the vegetables,
Well, I prefer having an
Intelligent conversation with my prey!
I would rather be considered Cannibal of the day!
A Joke, Mr Small
I lay on my bed,
And the carpet broke my fall.
You demonstrated humor, dear Mr Small.
Great are many, but you supersede them all.
This may seem insane,
But I would rather you remove her again.
I love a good joke, and she needs a bloke!
A Warning from a Friend
Please be careful whom you accept as a friend,
And avoid suspicious competitions.
You are vulnerable to phishing,
Thus without your consent,
Many weird messages you will send!
Back to Eighties Music
How we appreciate both sight and sound,
But what will we spend, a penny or a pound?
There is misplaced music,
That we seek, but cannot find!
Woe! Back to the eighties this clock I wind!
Bloody Hell
What be the source of this foul smell?
Could it be you, pal?
With so many heavies aboard,
One never really can tell!
If only I hadn't rushed!
If I had arrived a minute later,
I could have awaited another elevator!
How could this possibly have occurred?
Fancy being totally trapped,
With a cannibalistic nerd!
Someone's breakfast was still alive! Bloody hell!
Both Proctitis and Cryptitus
Good heavens!
What are you?
Superman you say,
And with a severe case of cryptonitis!
Oh my goodness!
You have a severe case of cryptitis,
And yet another dose of proctitis!
My dear super-silly,
You might wish to stay away from Willy,
For it seems he is only attracted
To your ulcerative colitis!
Bourdillon's Voices
Francis William once said
That the night has a thousand eyes
And the day but one,
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun!
Bourdillon then challenged this moon,
And was faced with a thousand cries!
A thousand stars were spreading lies!
Chin Chin!
Is it a game, and how does one win?
What are the provisions?
Need I be thin?
You are a few sizes larger than me,
And when you lift your chin,
I count up to three!
Your shape is a sin!
I would ask you to sit,
But hang on a minute, man!
I don't think you can!
Chin-chin, and tit for tat,
I never met one, who looks like that!
Every wheel has a crooked spoke,
In our case, what is it?
It remains undecided.
Is it a girl or a bloke!
What is this thing that wants to poke?
Please keep your hand to yourself!
Many before you
Have been brushed off the shelf!
Stop signaling now,
Before it’s too late.
Every corrupted wheel,
Buckles under increasing weight!
Feed All of Me
Again the dumpies sit on your wall!
Can you feed them from your stall?
Is there enough for them all?
Pour some trickle over the gall,
And fatten them more,
Until you note