On Monday, November 24, 2003 at 8:09:30 AM UTC-5, Ironywaves wrote:
> "these oceans oscirius" <de...@ccil.org> wrote in message
> news:MPCdnfAm4ND...@comcast.com...
> > oh
> > sweet
> > angel cunt
> > blah
> > blah
> > blah
> >
> >
> > these oceans oscirius
> Great title... but could use a bit more content to the poem, in my opinion.
> Reminds me of a Colin Ward poem. Below is one of my poems about pussy:
> "Moments"
> O many lipped flower,
> harmonic fractal convolution,
> holder of the Op Bop in your mouth,
> the hot drizzle of your spit.
> The Op Bop in your mirror'd two blooms,
> awaiting the buzzing fertility root.
> Inside your fence is your
> sacred place,
> where your sounds and your feelings
> are your own.
> Your skin and flesh and all that is within,
> your mentors in Alabama moonlight,
> and those that worship your hills.
> All that is a part of your kingdom,
> you are a muse I look to or use.
> Your slow moving liquid is inspiring to me,
> I remember how you feel inside.
> To bump and rub inside your craving,
> expanse of skin, to feel you melt,
> to erupt my meltings inside you.
> Moments in exile,
> moments in these times.
> I just remember,
> those days when I had that much jam,
> your crazy eyes when we jammed love,
> lost the sound of your voice when you come,
> horse riding child bearing back beat bumping me,
> earth mother urge, spread and be happy,
> lets stretch deep and pop, be fruitful and multiply.
> Moments in exile,
> to make the hurts pass in days.
> -Will Dockery (c)2003

Hola, I'd much rather read a poem about cocks.

On Sunday, June 18, 2023 at 2:56:27 AM UTC-4, Jordy C wrote:
> On Monday, November 24, 2003 at 8:09:30 AM UTC-5, Ironywaves wrote:
> > "these oceans oscirius" <de...@ccil.org> wrote in message
> > news:MPCdnfAm4ND...@comcast.com...
> > > oh
> > > sweet
> > > angel cunt
> > > blah
> > > blah
> > > blah
> > >
> > >
> > > these oceans oscirius
> > Great title... but could use a bit more content to the poem, in my opinion.
> > Reminds me of a Colin Ward poem. Below is one of my poems about pussy:
> > "Moments"
> > O many lipped flower,
> > harmonic fractal convolution,
> > holder of the Op Bop in your mouth,
> > the hot drizzle of your spit.
> > The Op Bop in your mirror'd two blooms,
> > awaiting the buzzing fertility root.
> > Inside your fence is your
> > sacred place,
> > where your sounds and your feelings
> > are your own.
> > Your skin and flesh and all that is within,
> > your mentors in Alabama moonlight,
> > and those that worship your hills.
> > All that is a part of your kingdom,
> > you are a muse I look to or use.
> > Your slow moving liquid is inspiring to me,
> > I remember how you feel inside.
> > To bump and rub inside your craving,
> > expanse of skin, to feel you melt,
> > to erupt my meltings inside you.
> > Moments in exile,
> > moments in these times.
> > I just remember,
> > those days when I had that much jam,
> > your crazy eyes when we jammed love,
> > lost the sound of your voice when you come,
> > horse riding child bearing back beat bumping me,
> > earth mother urge, spread and be happy,
> > lets stretch deep and pop, be fruitful and multiply.
> > Moments in exile,
> > to make the hurts pass in days.
> > -Will Dockery (c)2003
> Hola, I'd much rather read a poem about cocks.

Hello, my friend. Maybe Zod can help with that.

On Saturday, November 18, 2023 at 1:44:47 AM UTC-5, fake W-Dockery forged:
> On Sunday, June 18, 2023 at 2:56:27 AM UTC-4, Jordy C wrote:
> > On Monday, November 24, 2003 at 8:09:30 AM UTC-5, Ironywaves wrote:
>
> > "these oceans oscirius" <de...@ccil.org> wrote in message
> > > news:MPCdnfAm4ND...@comcast.com...
>
> > > oh
> > > > sweet
> > > > angel cunt
> > > > blah
> > > > blah
> > > > blah
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > these oceans oscirius
> > > Great title... but could use a bit more content to the poem, in my opinion.
> > > Reminds me of a Colin Ward poem. Below is one of my poems about pussy:
> > > "Moments"
> > > O many lipped flower,
> > > harmonic fractal convolution,
> > > holder of the Op Bop in your mouth,
> > > the hot drizzle of your spit.
> > > The Op Bop in your mirror'd two blooms,
> > > awaiting the buzzing fertility root.
> > > Inside your fence is your
> > > sacred place,
> > > where your sounds and your feelings
> > > are your own.
> > > Your skin and flesh and all that is within,
> > > your mentors in Alabama moonlight,
> > > and those that worship your hills.
> > > All that is a part of your kingdom,
> > > you are a muse I look to or use.
> > > Your slow moving liquid is inspiring to me,
> > > I remember how you feel inside.
> > > To bump and rub inside your craving,
> > > expanse of skin, to feel you melt,
> > > to erupt my meltings inside you.
> > > Moments in exile,
> > > moments in these times.
> > > I just remember,
> > > those days when I had that much jam,
> > > your crazy eyes when we jammed love,
> > > lost the sound of your voice when you come,
> > > horse riding child bearing back beat bumping me,
> > > earth mother urge, spread and be happy,
> > > lets stretch deep and pop, be fruitful and multiply.
> > > Moments in exile,
> > > to make the hurts pass in days.
> > > -Will Dockery (c)2003
> > Hola, I'd much rather read a poem about cocks.
> Hello, my friend xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Forge much, impostor troll? ^^^^^