Long Ejaculation Poems
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Embarkation upon meditation...
Believe me you upon manifestation
regarding Das godaddy bing linkedin
with avast cosmic consciousness
self induced light hypnotic trance
I become enthralled
unless wife disrupts intent concentration
calling out "Matt...Matt...Matt"
bajillion times Googleplex
(slight hyperbole for literary effect),
subsequently courtesy
disembodied voices
deliver poetic inspiration
without forcefully summoned,
rather gently coax (zeal lust lee)
amidst Smokey and Bandits spiritus mundi
plethora of discordant
indistinct jabbering murmurs
requiring exacting golong strategy
kickstarting coalescence regarding
faintest hint analogously harboring
shipping news a boat
reeling in catch of the day
thus, fingers snakishly
slither skitter, sidle
at greased lightning pace
across Macbook Pro laptop keyboard
feverishly unleashing
unexpected brainstorming tsunami
recalling steely apothegm
strike while the iron iz hot,
thus such epiphany occurred
moments ago - in case
ye heard "Eureka" shouted
loud, free and clear
without moment to lose
yours truly brooked
stream of consciousness
ignoring flash flood warnings
slapped down one after another
figurative pontoon bridge
all the while skirting
eddies, whirlpools, fierce whitecaps
fortunately hauling unexpected
magnificent linkedin kindled
sense and sensibility
yours truly rendered speechless
(most time non verbal when writing),
additionally hodgepodge mashup
offers no rhyme nor reason,
yet burst of pooled
imponderable gushing silent spring
(courtesy ghost of Rachel Carson)
currently did flickr
demanding immediate typing
though poetic license expired
please don't tell commission,
nor chief word den
these unpredictable eruptions
(most likely indistinguishable
turkey in the straw gobbledygook
to the untrained eye),
rather good n plenti
camouflaged indecipherable creativity
(nope, not even practiced experts
keen on esoteric etymological arts)
stymied to understand)
mine swiftly styled harry tailored
gibberish oh baying avant
(to assign long sentence
upon Matthew Scott),
which "FAKE" premature ejaculation
incorporating poppycock mishmash
screened for your viewing discomfort
unbelievably came to this homeless tramp,
while he plodded across no man's land
with hud door hubble mojo risin.
June nineteenth one hundred and fifty years ago
Juneteenth hint: three hundred
and sixty six days
after eighteen sixty four.
Major General Gordon Granger
led the Union Soldiers to Galveston, Texas,
to announce the end of the Civil war
and the freedom of all enslaved people.
Jim Crow sat perched
over the event horizon
waiting in the wings,
which brought darkened
(non-sheltering) skies
not only for the hot pocket
of suddenly emancipated
persons of color,
who would subsequently experience
immense prejudice
upon their embarkation
as (no pun intended)
"masters" of their own selves
while attempting to eke out a living
dirt poor, yet resourceful
hunkering down on plantations,
which property eminent domain
of federal government,
(a political entity
characterized by union
of partially self-governing provinces,
states, or other regions),
whereby said body electric
codified, fortified, and indemnified
manifest destiny, a phrase
coined in 1845, the idea
that United States destined—
by God advocates believed—
to expand its dominion
and spread democracy and capitalism
across the entire North American continent.
Though institution of slavery
supposedly rendered null and void
at the stroke of a pen
(courtesy Abraham Lincoln)
well actual legislation
passed by Congress on January 31, 1865,
and ratified on December 6, 1865,
the 13th Amendment abolished slavery
in the United States.
Nevertheless merciless abuse
heaped upon the *****
despite their legal status
being Granted leeway
to persevere life, liberty
and pursuit of happiness.
Recognition as equal brethren
among collective soul of American
fraught with bitter aversion,
condemnation, and ejaculation
of physical and verbal violence
against people of color,
whose melanin enriched complexion
birthrights rendered hidebound
severely limited
inalienable rights as declared
in Declaration of Independence,
now still utter abhorrence
regarding treatment
of those proud enterprising people,
whose once storied
African past left in tatters
leaving sparse threads
woven together by diligent dogged research
nsync with twenty first century technology
to allow, enable and provide opportunity
to stitch together a more complete tapestry
and spiritual fusion with shackled ancestors.
***** NONPARTISAN SHAM (BULL SH*T) SPECIAL NEWS BULLETIN *****
Innocuous, yet unhealthy threat looms across
(air/radio) telecommunications devices
linkedin with plenti networks that criss cross
even primitive computers utilizing DOS
by George, which archaic code
once powered Mill on the Floss,
now long since covered over
with flora I lichen and recognize as moss.
Surgeon general (Jerome Michael Adams
20th Surgeon General of the United States)
strongly advises against, yet he does not boast
threat looms large coast to coast
watching more than five minutes at most
equivalent machination, the following I post
re: guarding haunting experience
analogous visit by fashionably late ghost
2020 presidential election coverage
able, eager, and ready to prey upon host
whereby curious George experiences
feeling noggin fried like toast.
A carefully worded (fake) communiqué
purportedly the brainchild of one freak
Matthew Scott Harris,
whose jargon puzzling as deciphering Greek
long story short while in utero,
he experienced cerebral leak,
said cheesy mousy man no longer meek
quite evident courtesy literary pique
his haughty style aiming to characterize
generic guy as self anointed Sheikh
sought after acceptance tepid and week.
Nevertheless he speaks/writes truth to power
aforementioned serious risk steeped within
social media platform sensory overload I ascribe,
whereby subliminal messages
voter's blitzkrieg does bribe,
albeit unconsciously, hence me subsequent rhyme
equals forewarning in league with mild diatribe
which receptive yours truly can transcribe.
All joking aside
oversaturation soaking up
presidential election aye chide
against viewing in excess (five minutes at most)
affixed to live streaming broadcast
can find thee steadfast staring getting bug eyed
thus hoop fully let moderation serve as guide
cuz the eventual outcome re: guarding
president elect political experts cannot hide
though be wary lest premature ejaculation trumpets
sore loser candidate, that
bombastic egotistical ignoramus lied
cuz prejudice nsync with pompous pride
for four years to many
the webbed wide world let him slide,
now as one common Joe,
a hardened criminal he best be tried.
Donning rubber gloves, the wife does washing of clothes and dishes...
(plus cutlery, pots pans, et cetera) in the kitchenette sink.
She started what would immediately become
a first and last generation tradition
(the spouse as washer woman
and scullery maid)
soon after we moved here
eight years ago come July 1st, 2025.
I trumpet her pioneer spirit
to apply elbow grease
(to tackle tough
heavily stained articles of clothing
(after her weary cowboy husband
comes back home on the range
after a hot day rustling cattle)
think underwear of mine -
whereat even bleach
falls short of removing
stubborn noticeable discoloration)
such gusto similarly applied
to glassware or cookware caked
with crusty hardened food.
After washing wearable goods,
she squeezes the excess water
from saturated item(s)
and drapes still moderately wet garment
over drying racks
despite the availability
of clothes washers and dryers
here on the premises
of Highland Manor Apartments.
Though she continues to threaten
with colorful epithets
never to wash my clothes ever again,
her words ring hollow
when some time elapses
and... guess what?
yepper, her hands slide down
into the behavioral sink
and I make sure
to acknowledge gratitude,
yet admit to falling short
of filling in the blank
(with a select response),
when she asks me
what will I give her in return.
Earlier in our
almost thirty year marriage,
we (I more so than the wife)
used to be conditional
and if asked a favor,
the immediate response
from yours truly (me)
just so happened to be
what do I get in return?
That Pavlovian feedback loop
occurred way before
my libido took a kamikaze dive,
into a suicide mission
a strong suspicion arises
(but I dare not utter
a premature ejaculation)
videlicet that being adverse effects
linkedin with one or more
of the nine prescription medications
ingested for mental health issues
such as anxiety, dysthymia,
obsessive compulsive disorder,
and palmar hyperhidrosis
could be the only logical explanation,
and interestingly enough,
I breathe a sigh of relief
cuz all to often sexual fantasies
ofttimes filled every waking
and sleeping hour of mine.
Donning rubber gloves, the wife does washing of clothes and dishes...
(plus cutlery, pots pans, et cetera) in the kitchenette sink.
She started what would immediately become
a first and last generation tradition
(the spouse as washer woman
and scullery maid)
soon after we moved here
eight years ago come July 1st, 2025.
I trumpet her pioneer spirit
to apply elbow grease
(to tackle tough
heavily stained articles of clothing
(after her weary cowboy husband
comes back home on the range
after a hot day rustling cattle)
think underwear of mine -
whereat even bleach
falls short of removing
stubborn noticeable discoloration)
such gusto similarly applied
to glassware or cookware caked
with crusty hardened food.
After washing wearable goods,
she squeezes the excess water
from saturated item(s)
and drapes still moderately wet garment
over drying racks
despite the availability
of clothes washers and dryers
here on the premises
of Highland Manor Apartments.
Though she continues to threaten
with colorful epithets
never to wash my clothes ever again,
her words ring hollow
when some time elapses
and... guess what?
yepper, her hands slide down
into the behavioral sink
and I make sure
to acknowledge gratitude,
yet admit to falling short
of filling in the blank
(with a select response),
when she asks me
what will I give her in return.
Earlier in our
almost thirty year marriage,
we (I more so than the wife)
used to be conditional
and if asked a favor,
the immediate response
from yours truly (me)
just so happened to be
what do I get in return?
That Pavlovian feedback loop
occurred way before
my libido took a kamikaze dive,
into a suicide mission
a strong suspicion arises
(but I dare not utter
a premature ejaculation)
videlicet that being adverse effects
linkedin with one or more
of the nine prescription medications
ingested for mental health issues
such as anxiety, dysthymia,
obsessive compulsive disorder,
and palmar hyperhidrosis
could be the only logical explanation,
and interestingly enough,
I breathe a sigh of relief
cuz all to often sexual fantasies
ofttimes filled every waking
and sleeping hour of mine.
NOMPUMELELO (SUCCESS)
She is the KEY!
The key to Good, Gold and ongoing life
Through her progression is guaranteed!
She is the product of positive mindset and creative thinking!
Education is just her mother and she rose her up along with respect and discipline
She is that one last pies of your parcel!
She is one in a million and your one million efforts make your one way to her attention
And ones with her on your right hand side you are a complete composed man
She is the queen to the planet of goodness!
The light in the darkness
Love in loneliness, ooh she is the finest!
She only deals with Kings!
And those who enjoy that annoying noise of an alarm shouting her name (success) in every sunrise
As a wakeup call of cause!
She is diamond shiny!
Her standards are highly set
The hotness she impose is like right next to the sun
A clear picture of her is seen ones the sun set!
She’s got curves, she’s skinny
But yet very heavy in weight
She dressed in Black and White with a fine print on it!
And her power is far beyond UMALUSI
For her your ******** is in need!
To imagine her putting you in, on the right position and
Slightly push up and down in and out repeatedly till ejaculation in success
Her reflection reaches far beyond any ones imaginations!
But yet she lives closer to your heart
She that soft inner voice whispering (work hard and even harder you lazy busted)
She’s not the kind of girl you see every day, she’s very hard to impress!
For her you need the combination of time, dedication, and hard work
Ooh and not forgetting the vision, mission and the passion
You need to sit down with a pan and paper, listen attentively and take notes to the lecture or lesson given by those who walked through the path before you!
Apply the best of your abilities and don’t fear for failure because she’s worth falling for!
Last but not least!
Success is the access to happiness
There is a list of ladies to choose and chase
I have seen this one call NOMPUMELELO
But I won’t chase after her
I will take my time dedication and affords to ask for her attention.
And if you got my point please do the same
#YondieG
Form:
When urinating into the toilet bowl...
yours truly (me) could not help but notice
while living social at various residences
within Montgomery County, Pennsylvania
the following described phenomena
actually observed quite some time ago
maybe back during
my carefree boyhood days of yore
that the uncontrollable spurt
analogous to a golden arch
of micturition arcing
toward parts unknown
(frequently missing the target altogether,
and wetting the seat
subsequently displeasing the next person
more often than not the missus,
who sits upon wet porcelain goddess)
initially issuing from out
my diminutive male member,
(even when fully erect,
no longer than
a small walking stick
for a lucky leprechaun),
when said jet stream
makes splashy contact
affecting fountainhead into pissoir,
whereby a bathroom
tchotchke of Atlas shrugged,
which non verbal reaction spoke volumes,
the direction water got flushed within potty
subsequently clearly described
a clockwise pattern
whooshing within the labyrinth
eventually getting routed
to wastewater treatment plant
at least here within the bowels
of Schwenksville, Pennsylvania.
Actually even after flushing,
or using the sink to wash hands,
the water also drained
mimicking rotation of second
or minute hands of analog time pieces.
After finding myself
flush with excitement
presuming I discovered
some great earth shaking revelation,
a Google search quickly
and immediately chastened
premature ejaculation of excitement
that yours truly stumbled
upon magnificent phenomena
and matter of factly explained
the direction a toilet flushes,
whether clockwise or counterclockwise,
primarily determined
by the design of the toilet bowl
and the water jet's direction,
not by the Earth's rotation
(Coriolis force), which often mistakenly
believed to be the cause;
meaning the flush direction
can vary even within the same hemisphere
due to different toilet designs,
not necessarily consistent
with the "clockwise
in the Northern Hemisphere" myth.
behold now everything on this earth;
the fields with abundance of grain,
palm-grove harvests rich and fruitful,
the forests that separate kingdoms and the fires that scorch them;
the brickwork of ancestries and the towers that reach our gods.
behold these crop-fields that we call life and death,
grown on the back of a sludge-like entity
sowed, and heaped, in granaries of self-doubt;
collected by children's dirty hands;
bronze-sickles, charcoal-eyes;
while the storms unwrap in the south...
gales have swept these homes and huts of clay,
the dog-faced pazuzu gnarls at the moon, as inimical as it is revered;
a mother's love for the murderous son is as complex
as the children's dependence on these fearsome steppes.
behold now everything on this earth;
the countenance of the origin-beast-mother carved in the mountains of the north
and the efflux of her genitals streaming to the south of the marshes,
into that great ocean whose shores we know only by myth
and whose waters is the abode of the primordial one,
whom hurls the long-spear of flood and storm
deep into the sides of these lands - for these lands are hers:
when all comes about, has not the lands risen strongly
from her bottomless and abysmal womb?
was not the pleasure that shook the members of the old, old gods
into ejaculation, indeed, the motion of her scaled loins?
is she not the temple to which all sacrifices are offered, all libations put forth:
is she not the shrine; the death-black ziqqurat; the lighthouse emitting darkness?
is she not the stele inscribed with all words of grace,
and the eloquence of our beautiful poets?
over the lapse of a thousand millenia,
she has been constricting the gods of the heavens
in a strong leather noose,
f o r i s n o t v o i d o r i g i n a l t o a l l ;
c h a o s , d i s c o r d , o r i g i n a l t o o r d e r ?
Form:
no emotionally ecstatic experience compares
to the seminal instance
whence spermatozoa
(from profuse ejaculation) beget
the miraculous propensity
to procreate despite the steep odds
female fertility fosters potential impregnation
fusing the hereditary debt
of feral, fiery, fomenting friskiness
fueling fancy free footloose fornication
prior to seminal fertilization union
sans ova doth induce fret
full ness in tandem with
diametrically opposed exultant sensations
(biologically, embryonically, microscopically,
et cetera) seismic shocks inject
when deliberate intent arises to disregard
applying prophylactics choice
plying reproductive roulette let
which analogous fruitful uterine plain
bastes the "cooking" egg omelette
which impregnation upends cessation of "self"
first and foremost asper desire to breed
wrenching role of "me" as operative
of webbed world de jure upon
consummating that most miraculous deed
necessitating yet for the fecund female relief
from messy menstrual cycle
she becomes temporarily freed
that perhaps a novitiate (or even a gal practiced
in the euphoric family, she instinctually
abides prenatal signals that heed
without feeling debased, harangued, lectured
pedagogical, polemical, puritanical, et cetera blast
assessing copulation enjoyed gloriously,
ineluctably, kinesthetically
lectured by elder, especially cast
in thee reel life drama, that nine months
til offspring utters initial whimper
elapses exceptionally fast
emitting a radiant golden halo wishing
to bottle confluence of hormonal secretions last
ideally fully awake to the birthing process,
when juiced the first stage of maternity past
cuz every moment thee inconsolably
(perhaps colicky infant)
gets first dibs to suckle,
which round the clock nursing
consumes moments many vast.
We sit in our idle houses
plugged-in to the world wide web
of digital madness and make-believe.
We text tweet posts from on far and shadow fight in elections streams but hide our eyes in the burning light of day. We crawl in the muck of media social septic sycophantic discharge.
The immaculate ejaculation of simple minds
lost in hate inspired by a buffoon's fury for the masses of a race at war with no one and everything.
We are the spoor of an absent absolute adolescent god.
The degeneration of a nation.
Walk on the left side of what is right.
Daggers to the left brainwashed, irrational.
We are the lost souls, shades of our former selves.
The whitewashed out wasted youth of a once-great nation that never was, and is only in the wet dreams of gun-loving, militant, mutant myopic ‘mericans.
We are the last bastion of some mad American empire that once never was and will be ever again from sea to shining towers of righteous jaded glass that reach to heavens zenith only to come down as men with destination if deaths deeds conspire to bring down.
An airliner of 767 designation demolition by design a government conspiracy that conspired to kill and to procreate war for profit and malicious malfeasance fester in flight of a mind at war with truth and a god at home of the brave land of the gun.
We are the product of our dysfunctional family that plugged us into the cathode ray tube, the wet nurse of the damaged damned and demented delusional diluted and dangerous.
We sit in our idle houses
plug-in to the world wide web
of digital madness and make-believe.
Of some mad American empire of crumbling crimson and cobalt blue fluids of stars sliver bright raining like falling embers or wormwood, blood, and sky and white light influx we are the offspring of some mad American empire…