Best Permissive Poems
Battle of the Sexes??
Amorphous metrosexuals haggling over who’s going to hold the bags.
Sight seeing
Never ask directions of a man standing naked in a kayak
Hick up
Whiskey never asks permission of the permissive.
So sew
Thirty-three thimbles teetered on the table top.
Knothead
He drove the nail from one side of town to the other.
John G. Lawless
12/10/2015
submitted to – One liners 6,7,8,9,10
sponsor – Bev Smith
Everyone needs a gold psychedelic prejudice card.
A PP card to carry that shows whether they are an auto-demi-dog or republi-cat
A PP card that says whether they are a liberal or a permissive, a pinko,
or a fundamentalist right-wing-bird.
This all-knowing PP card could instantly tell us whether their kitchens are red or orange or another color.
Without gold PP cards, how do we know who to hate?
Sure, we can sort some people out as hate-able right away.
White people’s faces blaze forward in a glaring way, so face colors are easy.
Freckled people have freckles on their faces or their arms, so if we want to hate them, cards are not necessary.
Red-headed people cannot hide their hair all the time.
Chevy drivers have that Chevy emblem, so that’s easy.
But for some stuff, we truly need a gold PP card –a hate card, so we will know who to hate.
I think this card should be implanted under our foreheads, but shiny enough that we can see it,
So when we decide to talk to a stranger on a bus or in line at the airport we know WHO we are talking to, so we will know who to hate.
Also, our children will meet only the kinds of people we approve of.
There are a lot of undesirables out there. They need to be pointed out right away, so we can instill a solid ground of prejudice in them at a young age.
I am thinking the PP cards should be implanted at birth.
Am I right?
Mother Goose and Father Time
All together had children nine.
Love ruled hers,
His were let free.
All wound up productive, happy and fine.
Think I'll write something uplifting
About flowers and the birds and the bees
When I was in school way back when
Sex talk created much unease
It wasn't a subject taught in schools
When I was a young whipper snapper
Attended school very many years back
After prohibition and the flappers
Us guys used to sneak behind the barn
And flip through the pages of Playboy
When reaching that very naughty centrefold
It was difficult to contain our joy
Guys that say they didn't sneak looks
At a copy their daddy kept hidden
They're not being truthful about their reaction
They totally lost their inhibitions
We've come a long way since I was a lad
The Internet is teeming with ****
The schools don't need to teach it any longer
A permissive society has been born
Well I'm really not sure that was uplifting
Titillating is a much better word
The more we talk about sex education
The more my speech gets slurred
© Jack Ellison 2015
I had been studying to make Sergeant,
And was scheduled for the afternoon promotion board.
To get some practice and test the waters,
I volunteered for the morning's Soldier Of The Month Board.
The Battalion recently had been given
A ticket for the well-known Berlin Orientation Tour.
During the in-brief, the Battalion Commander
Said the ticket would go to the soldier with the highest score.
As luck would have it, I won;
Beating out by a quarter of a point a Staff Sergeant.
Not only was I going to Berlin for a week,
I was recommended to be promoted to E-5 Sergeant.
The Berlin Orientation Tour didn't count as leave;
As it was considered Permissive Temporary Duty (PTDY).
Riding the duty train to West Berlin
We had to keep all the windows shaded through East German territory.
The Wall had already come down by then,
But the Soviets were still occupying East Germany.
As a group we toured a modern museum
Documenting how some East Germans had escaped to be free.
One day we passed through Checkpoint Charlie,
And saw the Soviet monuments and troops in East Berlin.
I collected pieces just chipped off the Berlin Wall
Instead of drinking coffee in the cafés of Berlin.
MY LITTLE UNIVERSE—LEXI'S PERSONAL PLANET (Visual 1)
Penned in a poetry permissive as a
periwinkle
painting palette’s passive paths to
pain
Petty philosophy added to phobias
perils
perishing peace in selfish pedantic
prose
Passing parodies of passion on paper
permeate
pacifying periodic paralysis, a paltry
pardon
Phoney photoflashes, the profound
performance
persist perfectly profound on my personal
planet
© Kim van Breda
Conception’s stain imputed sin again
my first cry swallowed by a bulb syringe.
At five years old, a chapel’s altar call
remained in me, the echo of your name.
Among a culture’s art of chase and hunt,
temptation’s treasures took my youth away,
my own Bathshebas broke Pandora’s box.
A pride unwilling for divine reproof,
evolved a spoken vengeance into blades
that would deliver the wounds my fists couldn’t.
Profane reflections gave illusions right,
the blind impatience always in my heart
to feel the edge of your permissive will,
left bones now heavy with the wages paid.
A whisper under the seas of our noise,
conviction bleeds the shadows from our hearts,
devoid of life, the chambers shown depraved.
The light of Christ’s salvation left untouched
at every worldly summit – nothing there.
Can’t get through the eye of the needle gate,
a want, to need, submit to bread and wine.
To change a man, the written Sword will carve
itself inside the soul, a life now new.
Not just what you have done or what you give,
but more of what you are that answers why.
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Contest:
Sponsor:
Written: 02.15.18
Pathfinder
I am the pathfinder who writes the right way
Through jungles and deserts a path I find without delay
To see amazing parts of the world that is hidden without my say
I write what is to be given to see by eyes only ready to obey
With wonderment and knowledge of what is and is not today
A wordsmith from the ancient world of words that lead us to play
Imagination is endless with words familiar and unacquainted to relay
The red witch and her white dragon fly through the night recited this day
Whether or not they are here in black and white and red of course displays
Magical illusions are the perfect green garden with no rules just swish and sway
We do however seem to write laws that are not permissive to make the earth so grey
I do believe the world is for children to endeavour and listening to grownups is sometimes confusing and completely puts me in disarray.
“ UNSUPPORTED CODE ” ©
Now it’s about time for all to be known
What’s always been there are facts to be shown
Eternal at last it embraces all
And with composure it stands by on call
Time is the measure of all things bourn
Creating a past & a future unknown
Always allowing for all things to grow
Giving good reason for us to all know
Season through season through thick & through thin
Time is permissive so accommodating
Given the choice you have to admire
Time has the answers for all to transpire
Free of all worry step into the now
Now known of the past is even the how
So given more time I’m daring to think
We’ll know what’s of worth & what is just fink
Time is the healer doctor & cure
Same for the wholesome as the ragged & poor
Outlasting each thing it makes its own rules
Constructing this world all with its own tools
Time is eternal & moving with pace
Given a moment it makes its own space
Time is forgiving of all the things wrong
All of the evils forgotten so long
While going forward it teaches us right
How to make better each day & each night
If to be honest everything’s to last
Then time is the future present & past
Mild in its manner instructive & fair
If only we’d listened we’d have had to hear
As time & again what’s surely in place
Is all who are here are in the ‘rat-race’.
C-More ®
They are silently screaming under the canopy
Of the hundreds of branches breathing aloud
Baying for the sky, the sea of trees
Beneath their veil lingers not a sound
Nor earthly remains of a thousand spite
Suicides—who may yet wander west
Through these woods, without respite,
Step after step in purgatorial debt
To the trees which they tainted with broken necks
And minds numbed in narcotic delight
As their veins became too polluted and wretched
And left themselves to decay in the daylight
Aokigahara, mother of permissive relief
May your black trees shroud their endless grief.
The sprout of momentary illusion,
the voyage of a derelict dream in place of a lie,
the lure of April, the deceit of May concertized in December,
in wintry snow, mocked,
miscarriages of a well worn organ,
the grin of February,
suspended in September,
the burden of unconquered Lust,
the armies of censorial secret "bedders",
begging for the abandoned rottenness on my path,
obsequious frenzy of the hasty oath at Ikoyi,
the stealthily lure of a defiled bed before the oath,
the desperation of "a wanna be" by crook,
hurried by the mascara coated looks of a postponed "dowried hariotery,"
A bedfellow from the red zone,
an unrepentant Gomer,
The armies of bias exes overwhelmed the gaze with suspicions,
compelling through diurnal and surreptitious escapades in dark corners,
allured by unfinished lust,
to the city centre for a quickie,
And myriads of men hides in ambuscade save one,
with threats of kill for suspending their “off home” secret lush
The public mistress unfit for their homes, Yet suited for their Lust by turns
she warmed our beds they say'
purloined for your Fall of a few days,
The bawd roamed unrestrained,
'Don't talk to me' she says.
Unbridled concupiscence her forte,
forty plus years in the trade,
well versed in the art
The sneaky nights,
the secret calls,
the Stygian services,
and countless gift of libidinous frivolities.
Yet their victim must remain mute,
as truly the drama unfolded ,
all appeal rebuffed by arrogance,
as they taunt with permissive perverse Laws
convinced on the first day.
Converse for four weeks,
conscripted in one week
“conbedded” on arrival in same day,
Correction of a fool,
concluded at the Court.
Then in retrospect, Delilah revived.
I was in a deep depression
A funk I couldn’t get over
My cold heart was my liaison
She had left me, I did discover
The prime of life…illusive
I still wanted her as a lover
I moved on, I was permissive
Of my feelings, I continued
My emotions were investigative
My heart and love were glued
I couldn’t help but to love her
I saw through glasses that were hued
She eventually came back for sure
My heart just jumped a beat
Her eyes were certainly the lure
I was happy and surely upbeat
I could never leave our heat
Entrant into Becca Lucas's "Chasing the Blues Away" contest
1/31/2013
Young and Old: It is time to
wake up; Young America, there comes a moment in life were it is coherent
that the close eye's of supply and demand will offer a challenge that shall seperate the boy's
from the Man's. And to add to this remark, Women, whether you are white, black, red or what
ever choice that place's you in the catagory of demand. Your emotional fortitude alway will be
an issue, the supplie's of your womanhood, is that the challenge's of tomorrow supercedes
any challenge's of yester-year's because the cause's of determination are often misunder-
stood when both sexes's think they are above their nature and their attitude is to be conc-
ieve as "good". But, "It's not about You". Old, middleage or new, a generation of viper's it is
not about you, not about the clothe's you wear or the self proclaim existence of your supply
and demand. He spoke everything into its proper order of importence, now the evil beast
[satin] and the self centered thought's of people's, have the forces of impurity been given to
a society that's compel to do what they want too do. "Is that You".
Satin: has taken over the Churche's: God created life: Mankind in its procurement to out-do
the essence of God himself, have accepted an abonminable disrespect unto himself and who
are the one's that suffer: Our Churche's, as an uppity blandent society of worshipper's, that
knows no God, has allow itself that the place of worship has become a dend of permissive be-
haviour. "It's not about You". It's about God (Jehovah) the name of Emanuel speake's that he
is the Lord of everything. And the attitude of the peoples can not change one thing. With eye's
wide open and the spirit of love is resussited in generation upon generation recieving the
blessing of the Son; Young and Old, Shout-Out the cidditiness from your lungs. Accept and
believe. "He is the One".
Let the Bible speak's: Forasmuch as ye know that ye were not redeem with corruptible
1 Peter 1 18-19 thing's, as silver and gold, from your vain conversation recieved
by tradition from your fathers: But with the precious blood of
Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and spot:
I don't mean to be dismissive 'Whatever you think'
but some parents are much too 'You kids decide'
permissive 'What could go wrong?'
The kids often turn out derisive ~ 'No skin off our backs'
their folks, you surprised? so submissive 'Have it your way'
The apple and peach trees had
an intense aroma and like sweet wine
with tiny bubbles, it slowly put me to sleep;
and soon after a goddess appeared
in a lovely spring night dream
and she told me that Heaven could be mine.
" Ah! Foolish man, you've wasted your youth
chasing after sensuality and unquenchable pleasures,
never committing yourself to one woman;
once life smiled upon you without a shadow of sadness,
now unhappiness leads you to sorrow and pulls you down
as gravity does...desire for lust is a tree that bears no fruit! "
" Be more aware of potential sexual diseases spread by some...
why chase after lust and sensual women who defile their bodies
to give unfaithful men pleasure? Remember the permissive sixties?
Everybody was having good times, not considering its outcome!
And while informing me of the dangerous reality,
the beautiful goddess revealed herself to me,
" I am Venus...the love goddess whom lovers always sought,
but times are different and love is no longer divine on anyone's thought! "
" Many cities around the globe have become the Sodom and Gomorrah condoning
homosexuality and bestiality as if their acts couldn't harm until the score is finalized;
think again: would thousands of people have died if lurid acts weren't practiced?
Read the terrifying stories of those who have died and the ones who are still dying!