desparate little girls

8/7/2019 Desparate Little Girls

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Desperate Little Girls

By Thomas Fullmer

Desperate Little Girls

With raven haired curls,

who in the Middle East,so foreign in the least,.

who on their wedding bed,

as husbands lusts are fed,could well end up dead

if sheets aren't bloody red.

Desperate little girls

with banners that unfurl,Those primitive ones

Who under bright suns

Let their moon flowInto bloody streets go

Effervescent and bubbling over into bloody shame

Shame, shame, nothing but shameShame, shame, everyone knows your name.

Their tears shed on padded pillows

Soaked up by puritys veilWrapped around their heads

And covered in scarlet weaves

Their trembling bodies wrapped in scarlet sheets.

If it be white than they be deadmeans sex before they wed.

Desperate little girls,eye's daggers men do hurl,

twirling around in the dark of night,

Hear the shrill sound see the awful sightOf desperate little girls pierced by a phallus

so different from the west of us.

Wrapped up in violent ecstasy

watch them suffer and you will see.Of demons bloody screams

and lover'serotic dreams

Whose tender flesh thrust in mawsRipped open by their claws

Dripping into pools of pain

Falling like crimson rain.

Tear open your beating heart,

And let the toxic waste dumpOf your inner soul flow crimson

On the reaper's floor

That there may be shame no more.


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Your Image

Your image is the one etched upon my soul

Your image is the one wherever I may goIve thought of you so many times

Youre etched upon my mind

To be with you and love you trueWould be so very divine

You are my heaven, you are my star

That twinkles up aboveYou are the urn, the receptacle

Of my everlasting love

I long to always be with you

Hold you close in my armsKiss your lushness with my lips

Shelter you from harm

Raise you up when you are blueCalm your savage sea

Keep you here within my heart

For all eternity.Youre not mine, you will never be

You belong to the wind

To take away your freedomWould be an awful sin.

So float above the rooftops

Into the starry sky

While I stand in awe and marvelAnd only wonder why?

Why does a love so fraught with pain

Exist within my heart?Why must I feel the way I do

And from you be apart.

Ill be a safe harborFrom your tumultuous sea

If you decide you ever need one

Let that port be me.

HEZBOLLAH

By Thomas Fullmer

Bola, Bola, Bola, Hezbollah,

Chants Ishmaels liberal sons.

Where is your rabid biteUpon the neck of

Proud Semitic patriotism,

Whose steel clad phallusThrusts into the bleeding heart

Of your inner sanctum,

Lebanon.


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The Arab Leaguers cheer.

Grandmothers, with babes in arms,Whose lugubrious cries

Trampled beneath the treads of

Ruths steel clad chariots of deathUpon the blood red soil

Of your verdant mistress,

Lebanon.


Though Martyrs cheer you on,

Your children run and fleeFrom rockets angry glare

That leaves ground zero bare.

Will you ever know a peace so freeFrom malice and from strife,

Within your adopted life

Of your step-mother dear,Lebanon.

Bola, Bo-la, Bola, Bo-la, Bola, Bo-la,Hezbollah, La, hez-bo Bola.


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My Fondest Memory

By Thomas Fullmer

A house is not just a home its a memoryOf Supa Dog running through the tall green grass

As his black and tan body Winds its way among the sheaves

Parting like a sea of waist high greenIn the wake of His long tail wagging.

A house is not just a home its a memoryOf the pitter patter of little feet

And flowing brown and blonde hair

As adorable faces rush up the stairs in sweet anticipation

And excited adulation as Pa Pa! wafts down the hallway.

A house is not just a home its a memory

Of holding Barbie in the hall,Two hearts knit into one,

She in my arms, close to my heart,

As we kiss the night away in tender loves embrace.


Of Alex grown to manhood but still a child at heartSlowly he opens one more present from underneath the tree

His eyes full of childlike wonder and excitement

As he sees the joys that only Santa and Christmas bring.


Of tender embraces,

Fond Hellos,Sweet I love yous,

And quiet moments in the dark

As a life flows towards deathAnd all eternity

To find peace within,

Full of love and joy

Home is where I long to beLost in the rapture

Of my fondest memories.

desparate little girls

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