"Claude not a clod Debussy"
elle est chaude if
i could as
if
d'un faune
getting
it on
on and with
a nymph's
veil as if
it was
the most
holy holiest
grail
He called me a limp-clod.
What is it?
I have no idea.
But it made you mad?
I am furious.
I could hit him.
Can we ask him?
Okay.
What is a limp-clod?
A limp is my best friend and a clod is his name.
Your name is Claude?
Yes.
Are you still mad?
Not as mad, but I have not slowed down yet.
Understood.
Trump An Old Clod
Trump had become an old clod
Wanted women with beautiful bod
A prior Miss Universe insulting
Psychological problems were resulting
Can you imagine him being made by God.
About Trump I wrote a long lyric
About big head that is hemispheric
But short limerick wrote instead
By Trump down path were led
Would not understood word esoteric.
Will Trump's reality really recover
While over us he does like to hover
And what I find most infuriating
Women always seems to be hating
Likes thinking he is a great lover.
As in Trump Tower sun arose
Tells many lies with a long nose
We are starting to get suspicious
Said daughter does looks delicious
Has psychological problem I suppose.
No matter where Trump goes or went
His actions are all really irreverent
And in mighty tower when it is misty
Business he will plan which is risky
Can you believe he has God's consent.
Jim Horn
Kick a Dirt Clod
By Linda Hays-Gibbs
The day was sunny and hot as people
danced
and ran around excitedly
I knew the very fly, that rot,
that buzzed around
my head delightedly
I kept my mouth tightly closed though,
in silent confused awe
I didn't really think it would happen,
no not at all
So all my best kept words were still
tightly sealed
In a giant pickle jar under a hill, that my
thoughts had filled, so lazily
I limped off behind the juniper tree
to find my voice...
But I knew right then I didn't
really have much of a choice
And as my tears finally silently slid
I knew I was no longer a silly kid
And all my prayers would go no higher,
but not
Because I didn't call him a liar
And the fear in my gut just would not stray
As I saw God kick a dirt clod and turn away
faith in God good 4 the bod,
in ever seeking wonder,
hook line and sinker slightly odd,
the passion seeks the thunder,
but this oaf is just a clod,
from way south, the land of sweet dowunder.
re: 'a lovers quarrell' Debbie Duncan
Don
Under the clod night sky
I think of you, every time reminding myself
That you are gone, thousands of miles
Away form me, so far away
Every night those tears I cry
And all those stars I count
Seems so less these days
But yet you never seem to come
It seems like million of years have gone
A billon time around the sun I’ve revolved
Human race has ended, and dinosaurs have evolved
But yet there’s no sign of you and still I’m alone
I try to hold my tears again but, yet it forces me to cry
I wipe tears and press my head hard
As loneliness surrounds
Under the clod night sky
I think of you, every time reminding myself
That you are gone, thousands of miles
Away form me, so far away
Every night those tears I cry
And all those stars I count
Seems so less these days
But yet you never seem to come
It seems like million of years have gone
A billion time around the sun I’ve revolved
Human race has ended, and dinosaurs have evolved
But yet there’s no sign of you and still I’m alone
I try to hold my tears again but, yet it forces me to cry
I wipe tears and press my head hard
As loneliness surrounds
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