Marlon Brando Prophesied Satan’s Anti-aging Testicle Juice

 

I’m tired of hipster beards
living off gypsies & artsy fartsy.
Johnnie Cochran paraphrased it:

“Flop at the box office,
or drink martini juice.”

A famous quote by: Testicle Namaste.

Marlon Brando
coined the term: “Science”
back in the 1700s. How?
He mumbled gibberish
prophesies that entailed; Nazi hairdryers,
DMV chlamydia, & cub scout illuminati.

Oh! So, you’re saying;
yeast infections we’re part
of an elaborate John Travolta
to further their anti-aging bird shit?
Yep, slaveantology
imprisons 7-UP.
They know if you consume it –
it’ll make mick jagger feel horny again.

Gene Simmons…
you trademarked Satan’s abs?
No wonder your soul
is half gazpacho & half psoriasis.
And speaking of Toys ‘r’ us…
How’s life treating you in Barcelona?
Hopefully, soapy and, aunt jemima free…

 

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Marlon Brando Prophesied Satan’s Anti-aging Testicle Juice – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Gandalf’s Lesbian Fettuccine

 

Two hobbits one cup
let it play in –
like 5 nuns licking
a punching bag.
And Mona Lisa
shreds her version
of vagina fettuccine.

Westboro Baptist Church
your comical inventions
puts Kirk Cameron
on family feud.
You guys make holiness
feel gonorrhea & Coca cola.

Bob hope would pee
in his speedos –
if he’d found out
Frodo Baggins
was a lesbian pudding
filing for chapter 13 in bankruptcy.

Brad Pitt, you we’re right.
Antiperspirant leads to prostitution.
Take some advice
from Gandalf.
He shook hands with Bill Cosby
the king of Oscar Mayer Wieners.
Doesn’t that mean Whoopi Goldberg to you?
No, it doesn’t…
but if you sell me athlete’s foot
for $5 bucks, will call it ‘lee van cleef’, deal.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Gandalf’s Lesbian Fettuccine – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Most Amphibians Left the Oxygen a Cadaver

 

All yellow Orobas, eat strew
in aether molecules.

Puddles deaf data!

Eisheth asphyxiating mason jars
most being intimate with growling formaldehyde beams –
and multi-folded swill.

Insincere seethe extinction autolysis –
sips column invoice
to unlock rabies embalming gibberellin tummies.

Synonym, percussion, depletion!

The lung hanged amphibians
flick the colorless respiration cell
into its chambered mourn ear ocellus,
and through it, teeth larva.

Stage hemoglobin bony underside…

Dog assassin’s
hatch the outerlude cadaver,
hymenopteran o latch evolving testified egg –
its 3:00am, nails teleporting the oxygen swelling.

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Most Amphibians Left the Oxygen a Cadaver – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Dada sucks my Nipple its Claustrophobic Between your Noun

Dada
  r
  o
  o
  l
  i
  n
  g

Arousal transmotto
Anti-nouns detach themselves from plisky

Male vitamin
feminism protein

Topless claustrophobic graffiti
     Hope is on life support
 e
 v
 e
 r
 t
 h
 e
 l
 e
 s
 s

Contracting views                                     Dadaist eggnog
sucking off the mice bourgeois              Dadaist cheese.

Art suffocates the nipple maps
tightened the photomontage ticket
Interlude what emanates

Daunting windowless cabaret
report plastic hormonal press
vacuum spectacle and…
philosophy breast feeds common sense
movement’s skip denouncements
rendezvous at fludd
Rosicrucian
Kabbalah
sion
m
a
i
n
s
t
r
e
a
m

F
r
a
u
d

 

*A few clues decide, many doors in your path,
you might have teased the first key.
Cover your eye with left hand.
Ask yourself – Which door should I shake hands?

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Dada sucks my Nipple its Claustrophobic Between your Noun – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Fluffy Dirge Blush the Melting Wince

 

Bake a smile
   full of maggots
     from my blowflies.  

Dirge palpebral!

           Bereft every introrse,
prokaryote the fart god webcam –
            preserve idiopathic mump…

Squeak the lumen personas.

         Incuse erythema gibbous,
       evince the polish oak human.
Grok blush your melting doss,
   contusion voices engulf
across myogenic land
     and fluffy chromatic jnana,
temples wince, wince… you may indwell for some permission.

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Fluffy Corpse Blush the Melting Fart – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Telepathic Gonzo

 

Taints mouth grows – don’t art the truth
of bias extrasensory.
Raoul! 
You museum pettifogging wall,
amaryllis despondency, hounds impressionistic Babylon.

Eyes shedding – continuity dehisce –
telepathic decoy – decries the mystic 6.

Profanities atrophied – gonzo misguided ultimatum –
fiction blindfolds the toad’s deflating us.

Bukavac protagonist randomizes
the fixing shock chess – god passed out on foreplay.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

No part of Telepathic Gonzo – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

“Private Outcry”

Please! Pay this Poet a Visit. His poem is Gold! A powerful message to our planet earth

The Wayward Poet

Lenin

My hatred of hospitals

Dates back to my childhood

When, at the age of six,

I was confined to Urgent Care for a week

After suffering a severe asthma attack.

A terrorist cell in my lungs

Restricted all airflow,

Making each breath painful and labored.

It was as if razor blades

Had made their way into my chest.

As I lay on the gurney, recovering,

I saw all manner of people

Trudge through the automatic doors,

Moaning and carrying their exposed organs

In their hands,

Gore and viscera dripping behind them

Like the bloody trail that follows an army of wounded soldiers,

Ripped open by the scars of battle.

So, too, is the current condition of the world,

A sick, twisted place overrun by the retched,

Marred by evil and wickedness.

The earth is rushed in on a stretcher,

An IV injected into its oil-rich vein.

The nurses and doctors…

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