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About Deviant Michael HunterMale/United Kingdom Recent Activity
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The Mushroom Groove
When I was sitting all alone,
Chewing my face down to the bone,
Studying walls in this sad room,
Through the door hopped a small mushroom.
'Hello Mr. Morgan sir,
How are you on this day?
I myself am feeling grand,
In fact, a little gay.'
It's fair to say I was confused,
And also rather unamused,
This mushroom man was glowing bright,
A most unnatural, ugly sight.
'Oh please Mr. Morgan sir,
Won't you come to play?
Come join me in my little dance,
I'm feeling rather gay.'
At this point I looked up and said,
'Mr. Mush you spin my head.
How much more time must I pass,
As you proceed to shake your arse?'
'Come now Mr. Morgan sir,
No need to spread dismay,
Just join me in my little dance,
And then I'll go away.'
I did not really wish to move,
Or to dance this 'Mushroom Groove',
And so I asked the spritely 'shroom,
To dance for me across my room,
'Mr. Mush I shall not dance,
But would you mind taking a glance
Across my room, just by the sink?
Mr. Mush, what do you think?'
The Mushroom Man then
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March by Superiorflowerpower March :iconsuperiorflowerpower:Superiorflowerpower 10 3 My Face by Superiorflowerpower My Face :iconsuperiorflowerpower:Superiorflowerpower 8 8 Bush's 6th Sense by Superiorflowerpower Bush's 6th Sense :iconsuperiorflowerpower:Superiorflowerpower 41 21 Nelson's Column by Superiorflowerpower Nelson's Column :iconsuperiorflowerpower:Superiorflowerpower 3 2 The Imperial War Museum by Superiorflowerpower The Imperial War Museum :iconsuperiorflowerpower:Superiorflowerpower 4 1
For Allen
For Allen
Who are the best minds of my generation?
Who doesn't hitch anymore because we're scared of hick pig-stroking rapists,
and who doesn't hang out?
Who stares at colourful boxes and taps on little buttons and we don't drink on roofs, man.
Who aren't scared of our senators, because we're white, and the current Red Scare's brown?
Who sits on their ass 22.5 hours a day and waits for their little box to glow in the right way?
Who needs calcium pearls, micro-granules and accessorised under-arms, caffeinated make-up, good bacteria and Activium?
Who imbibes ceramides and emulsifiers, nanosome electro-cosmetics, and who takes trichologists seriously?
Who saw the funny side of campaigns for equality, who played the satirist, and who now is too young to get the joke?
Who's afraid to do acid in case they jump out of a window, and who's given up grass because it makes them scared?
Who has sex to make up the numbers, and when's the last time we felt 'as one'?
Who lives under the shadow of the
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Yes, I Have a Penis
Yes, I Have A Penis
Do not assume (if I hold the door for you),
that I am making a statement
about your inabilities
to open the door for yourself.
If you hold it for me,
I'll say 'thankyou'.
Do not assume (if I pay for the meal),
that I am underestimating
your earning capacity
as a woman.
If you invite me out for a meal,
you're paying.
Do not assume (if I defend your rights),
that I am belittling
the attempts that you have made
to defend your rights yourself.
If you defend my rights,
I'll consider you human.
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Little Boy Bleeding
Little Boy Bleeding
There once was a boy who lived without joy,
His friends called him 'Little Boy Bleeding',
When they'd go to the park he'd sit home in the dark,
Under a red light, reading.
'What's he reading?' They'd ask as he embarked on his task,
And he'd say, 'Guys my heart needs feeding.
I sit in my flat to see where I'm at,
'Cos sometimes my feelings need heeding.'
But what was he reading, this Little Boy Bleeding,
Was it Shakespeare, Shelley or Poe?
And what was he heeding while his heart was feeding,
Keenan, Yorke or Simone?
The medium he took was alas not a book,
Or a poem or play now we know,
For slowly we learned that while his heart burned,
He ingested the purest emo.
Whenever his friends tried making amends,
Or ever called him on the phone,
He'd always reply in tones somewhat shy,
'I'm alright, leave me alone.
Seriously guys, no need to advise,
Please, just leave me alone?'
Listening to sadness and songs which brought madness,
He even wrote one of his own:
"Why cannot yo
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Uncle Sir
Uncle Sir...
Once the boy said to the man
On a hot summer's day,
"Uncle will you tell me please,
Why can't I go play?
The other boys all laugh outside,
And all are having fun,
Why must I sit here with you,
As they play in the sun?"
Staring daggers at his child,
The man's eyes grew from calm to wild,
And as he stroked the poor boy's head,
The man looked at the boy and said,
"I'm the one to hold you tight,
The one to make your world all right,
No matter who you search to see,
The only one for you is me."
"Yes Uncle Sir I know you're right,
But don't you think that they,
Might not truly be that bad,
Maybe they want to play?"
Reaching for the young boy's hand,
The man observed him briefly and
(forcing the boy to welcome his speech),
Holding him tight he started to preach:
"They are the ones who want you dead,
The ones with evil in their heads,
Their sole intent is to abuse you,
To bite you, scratch you, and to bruise you.
They are the ones who'll make you hurt,
But don't you try to stay al
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Mature content
Board Meeting :iconsuperiorflowerpower:Superiorflowerpower 11 5


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Michael Hunter
United Kingdom


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raemarshall Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2009  Professional Photographer
good statement with your poem
Ashalie Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2007
Yes, I have a vagina?
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