Write a Spontaneous Poem
Arbitrary
The humidifier runs constantly like a Kenyan in Boston. I scratch my bare stomache as I gaze blankly into my LCD screen, looking for it but I cannot find it. It is not on my screen but in my head; but I still search for it on the screen. How futile it is.
Times strolls by as if Jack the Ripper was casually strolling past Big Ben and I know I shouldn't be up this late. Just like last night, and the night before that, and the whole goddamn summer. I glance at the unmade bed and pause to ponder if I made it up for the whole two months I've been back living with my parents. I do not know.
Sometimes I wonder if I could have enjoyed grade school more than I did. Because college is the best thing that ever happened to me. I anxiously await the day that I move into my house with my other four friends in Urbana. That die sun will shine down upon the rooftops as I unload my life for nine months.
But, I wonder. Will I be doing the same thing that I am doing at home? Staying up late for no reason at all? That question makes me smile. Why would I ask myself something I already know.
Still awake at this time
should be up at nine
What the fuck
at The Cellar I'm stuck
The valley looks like a matted green carpet.
Rolling hills and gentle nubs.Inlets and black bear cubs.
I am looking down with a birds eye view. Nautres tapestry.
It's rivers running yon. I yawn. Up at the break of dawn.
A week ago
a spider bit me
right between the eyes.
My eyes swelled shut,
my head swelled up
to twice its normal size.
Two nights ago
a spider bit me
right between the thighs.
My butt swelled shut,
my c*ck swelled up
to twice its normal size.
Last night
I heard a voice
coming from the cellar.
It was my wife,
singing,
"Need more spiders."
I are serious cat
I know where it's at
The troll I mean, I know he lurks
He sneaks, he spies, he eyes, he jerks.
He not cheezburger
So hold the workz.
He haz bucket
The bucket iz lost
I are serious cat
I know what it cost.
each one is exponentially better than the next!
each one is exponentially better than the next!
Better than the
next? Oh, so the first is by far the best, eh, fresh? :p Ah, just kiddin'.
[color=white]_____[/color]Oh, happy cellar
[color=white]_____[/color]Bastion of beauty and wit
[color=white]_____[/color]Friendship always foundOkay, since its spontaneous, it doesn't have an ending, it's just two verses. Can't come up with the end without giving it more thought.
Tell me more, while I
memorise, your eyes,
Each
laughter line
and the way that
you smile,
for
I can see, that the night
is almost at an end,
The bar
is emptying
And the taxis are
Gathering
Force.
Every time I feel enlightened
Or even slightly cool
I find myself being weird and frightened
And knowing I am a fool
She sleeps by my side
still
after all these years I want her
still
more beautiful in my eyes today than yesterday
still
I can't wait for morning, breakfast brings new love
still
still she is the ache in my heart
I am in love
still
all that I need from her will never stay
still
new love every day blossoms out of old
old that lives
still
my love
Just a couple of min and I only came back and added the last two lines.
What I give
You take
What I dream
You fake
When I cry
You breathe
When I need
You leave
[CENTER]A
Spontaneous
Poem
Should
Not
Be
Written
In
Haste
[/CENTER]
Did you not like my poems? :(
Did you not like my poems? :(
Shawnee -- I thought of that while riding my motorcycle in to work this morning. It was intended to be ironic, and zen-ish.
I like your poem, and DanaC's, but I was trying to avoid commentary.
I was kiddun'. I really liked it! Very zen-ish.
The lips that you find
With no teeth behind
Though mute, are unkind
When they prey on your mind
No Need for a Title
I look once more
Back to the Cellar's door
But still I can't find
A poem that doesn't rhyme
Like mine
It doesn't have to rhyme!
Couplets are predictable and benign
New age expression
Are far more poetic to me
But well who am I to judge
I major in leisure studies
(i know there are other non couplets other than mine posted, just generalizing oops :( )
Hark! Tis not true that
only free verse carries the mystic artistry
you seek.
As I listen to the summer staccato of rain
I find pretention.
He bought some liquid paper.
I'm so ashamed
of my short attention span
I have short attention spam
oh and a lisp
Here I sit
One night more
My bed unmade
My eyes are sore
What a bore
my life is dull
I need something
to sooth my skull
In this weather
Your head is probably
killing you.
Here in my separate world
I can feel the muscles
bunching up at the base of your neck
and I would call you but you're probably
doing something
important.
Tonight I will
trace the patterns of
stress and stormclouds
across your wide back.
are you coming home?
it's late and im all alone
are you coming home?
you have sins to atone
i have to work late again
don't. just leave now
i have to work late again
don't. come home now
I really really really want to.
I really do.
really.
Once upon a look at the sky...
And a chat with the moon
And a chill of the night
And a tear of the loneliest heart...
A voice became clear to me
So fine it almost melted
Upon the heat of my trepidation
So lovely I almost went blind
In a flash of white light
Like shock upon my skin
Like madness in a storm
Like cream floating to the top of my tea
You appeared.
[FONT=Calibri]This is a spontaneous poem.[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]We develop patterns,[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]doing things because we do those things,[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]thinking things because we think those things.[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]It's hard not to say the things we've said before.[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]It's Wednesday, so let's eat Prince spaghetti.[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]We're just being who we are.[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]It takes too much creativity to be someone else.[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]It takes too much energy to be spontaneous.[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]This is not a spontaneous poem.[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri] [/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]Through oxidation[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]or fermentation[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]A pile of sawdust bursts into flame[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri] [/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]also[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri] [/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]Mary is gone and all that remains[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]is a charred ashen outline,[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]a shrunken skull,[/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri]and a portion of her left foot[/FONT]
there was once a man from Nantucket...
The world's oldest man has died
Long live the world's oldest man
It's raining today
and I don't mind
I know tomorrow
the sun will begin to shine
Your not here
and that's ok
I like being by myself
it gives me time to think
Ketchup in my cleavage
Ketchup in my cleavage
Why oh why is there ketchup in my cleavage?
It rolled off my fry
Took off on the fly
And now I ask why
Is there ketchup in my cleavage?
Could it just be fate
Saying I shouldn't've ate
But the fry tasted great 'cept for
Ketchup in my cleavage.
I guess I shouldn't care
Because the Big Guy upstairs
Made it miss my outerwear
That ketchup in my cleavage.
S'pose I'll take a clue
That fries ain't no stew
Next time I won't do
No ketchup in my cleavage.
Pictures, Shawnee, where are the Pictures?
Words alone don't tell the whole story.
LOL...was hoping for something like:
Wish I had a fry
Cause hey, I'm just a guy
And I'd sure like to try
That ketchup in your cleavage.
:lol:
I love that, Shawnee! It made me laugh. :)
Thanks Dana and case. I'm not sure where that came from, but it was fun writing it. Goofy stuff! :)
I was going to say something like:
You got catsup on my cleavage!
You got cleavage on my catsup!
Two great tastes that go great together.
But I thought that that might be rude.
Harry Potter in my hands
Wishing he would make a stand
Vanquish Voldy finally
Until then I will follow he
Through the pages, by his side
Wand in hand, stride by stride
When at least the final page appears
And hearing things I don't want to hear
The book is done, the story told
And Harry Potter, my heart has stole
You're twisted into in my DNA
Everything from my skin down aches for you
Would an X-Ray show your shadowy presence
Lurking under my bones?
Are you here in my chest
While my breast burns for your touch?
The very water in my pressured brain
Or sprouting fine hairs in my lungs?
Your absence is killing me,
Hurry up and introduce yourself, please.
Daily drivings make me think
About what I'm supposed to do
And then I lose track
Of what I should be doing
And then I wonder
If I should be doing that thing at all
You're twisted into in my DNA
Everything from my skin down aches for you
Would an X-Ray show your shadowy presence
Lurking under my bones?
Are you here in my chest
While my breast burns for your touch?
The very water in my pressured brain
Or sprouting fine hairs in my lungs?
Your absence is killing me,
Hurry up and introduce yourself, please.
Wow SG - I just read this....its awesome :)
In this deep dark hot
I burn
Crawling agony
Black piss
Wretched skin
The thing you think you love
is gone
an aching husk
here
calls for you
to love me
back
to
life
again
worthlessly
We weave
Fibers of grief and glee and
Pain and pleasure and
Vexation and constancy.
We twist
Licorice sticks of tribulation and fortune and
Affliction and substance and
Torment and mirth.
We writhe
In motions of love and hate and
Hope and despair and
Tolerance and prejudice.
What a cruel trick parents play on their children.
Birthing them, nurturing them, raising them, teaching them.
Encouraging them, challenging them, cheering them.
Misleading them.
"It will be all right." when it is broken.
"You can do it." when you can't.
"I know, I know." when I don't .
Lies.
"I love you."
The only truth.
i am waiting
there is no time
there are many who write
there are some who rhyme
there is a presence
feeling about
i know not what i am sure of
i only know there is doubt
sometimes in the morning
when the earth smells so sweet
so little time for reflection
must get out on the street
to the place of employment
do what has to be done
always feeling the pressure
always under the gun
can't wait to leave in the evening
hating the slugs up ahead
finally at home in your castle
feeling the warmth of your bed
repeating the same thing each morning
doing the same thing each night
ask why the cycle keeps repeating
saying i don't know it just seems right
i cant even sit here in my room and type into a quick reply
a simple, sweet spontanious lullaby
youve sucked it all right out of my limbs
the are limp with dissapointment.
i thought that rhonda burne was right
that if i gave thanks for you every night
you'd appear on the scenes
stepping out of my dreams
but the universe must have forgotten my address.
just one hour of the day
with you
is what i need to stay line
in this world, oh girl
cause you're the only one i need
one hour is all i really need
say you will stay with me forever
tonite
cause i love you
my feelings are true
can't you see
that we were meant to be
im a dipstick shitlick
look at me LOOK AT ME
look away i make you sick
im a dumptruck assfuck
hate me hater HATE ME
pity me for my bad luck
your the WORSTest im the BESTest
say my name my name is _________
given the circumstances
the only way in
is out
given the circumstances
the only way to hold on
is to let go
given the circumstances
the only way to have it all
is to give everything
J--
Would you mind turning down your signature about seven or eight notches?
TIA
Yours,
Can I second that request? It's your right of course to have what you like there, but it's a little like getting shouted at every time your post comes up. It kind of detracts from your posts a little imo.
Oh btw, LOL Flint.
the fat lady sings
the fat lady flings
poo in your face
a shoe in the space
that you call your anus
this thread is heinous
if we hacked you to pieces
nobody would blame us
__________________
...it was in response to a thread that irritated me.
You may ask, why are my poems so mean-spirited? Let's say, for the sake of argument, that one of the moderators actually moderated around here a little (fat chance) and :::flips a coin::: Bruce called me out. I'd say:
ding-dong dildo my name is Bruce
and I know the truth, but I wasted my youth
on bible-thumping and goat-ass humping
I spend my days conclusion-jumping
Let's say, for the sake of argument, that one of the moderators actually moderated around here a little (fat chance) and :::flips a coin:::
Curious. What would you have him moderate more of?
Curious. What would you have him moderate more of?
ok I'll answer for you.
How about bad poem writers attacking others. Stupid thread writers attacking others and dumb clones with even dumber answers and people who just can't seem to grow up.
your butt?
dumb
i knew you'd get all bent about that. I was gonna say 'your face' but i thought that was a little too harsh. i figured if i said 'your butt' that you might get the joke and laugh with me. (ps...I'm Flunt)
ease up, cookie.
here's a poem about taking the heat:
roses are red, violets are blue
take a joke, you crazy slut.
[QUOTE=lumberjim;381875]i knew you'd get all bent about that. I was gonna say 'your face' but i thought that was a little too harsh. i figured if i said 'your butt' that you might get the joke and laugh with me. (ps...I'm Flunt)
oh I knew who flunt is and all your other names. I know your M.O and your car saleman tactics.
take your alter egos and shove them up your ass please
you are fucked up in the head
you project your obssessions and irrational fears
I am sick of you and people who think like you. Liers and freaks.
Was that a poem, sky?
I liked it either way.
thanks.
I guess I am not very good at rhyming. ;)
so... the evil sky is in the house tonight?
why can't you see that i am just being silly? why do you have to get so bent out of shape and angry? would it be funny if i was picking on gaynesschronic instead?
And you have the nerve to say that I'm a gay basher?
Bitch, paaaaaleeeeeeeeeeez.
when did i call you a gay basher?
i see that the
crazy is in the air tonight. wonder why that is.....
so... the evil sky is in the house tonight?
why can't you see that i am just being silly? why do you have to get so bent out of shape and angry? would it be funny if i was picking on gaynesschronic instead?
evil sky gave me a grin
lj if you really knew me you'd know I smile easily
just because your antics and the like irk me dosn't mean I can't laugh. That's in your head.
Because you are mean to everyone generally it effects my impression of you. I am not ranting at everyone so you should maybe think your comments are off at times.
Quite frankly I want you to be a nice person I could like. I see inklings sometimes. I want to like you but you ruin it at every turn.
It's hard to have a heart to heart this way.
why dont you come over. i'll give you a big hug and make you some cocoa.
and.....maybe a reach around.
roses are red
daiseys are yellar
I can flirt
just not with the cellar.
That's in your head.
Not quite. Actually, it's only in his head,
in your head. The internet isn't a mind-reading machine.
roses are red, violets are blue
take a joke, you crazy slut.
That made me laugh quite a lot.
well, i hope you know that i meant it in the most respectful way possible, sky.
I truly do like having you around. because you're a little nutty
There once was a guy on the cellar
A funny crazy kind of fella
when asked to get real
he was such a heel
We begged him to to go back to being a complete and utter dickhead.
That made me laugh quite a lot.
why?
it wasn't nice. I guess you're a lj lover.
congradulations
well, i hope you know that i meant it in the most respectful way possible, sky.
I truly do like having you around. because you're a little nutty
I think a side by side comparison of our posts and quotes would prove otherwise. Fortunatly for me this isn't ag and not everyone will believe you and flint and your smear tactics.
But thanks for sucking up anyway.
I think a side by side comparison of our posts and quotes would prove otherwise. Fortunatly for me this isn't ag and not everyone will believe you and flint and your smear tactics.
But thanks for sucking up anyway.
would prove what to be otherwise? that i meant it in the most respectful way possible, or that i truly do like having you around?
also, i'm not trying to smear you. except maybe with applebutter and raisins....but i only have
that fantasy around thanksgiving time. as for the sucking up bit.....you know you love it.
The only problem with cannibalism is that the taste varies from person to person.
The only problem with cannibalism is that the taste varies from person to person.
:lol:
now that was funny
HIJACKING MY THREAD DAMNIT!
I saw the end before the beginning.
It was lying limply as the beginning came into view.
It walked over the end, and started anew.
I poked and pummeled
stroked my pole and broke
the soul of his man tunnel
after cumming, limpy lying
I saw his friendly end again
and rose anew, the goo went flying
it's a hard decision trying to decide who is more immature b/w the obvious two candidates.
anywho feeling inspired by my current readings of urban lifestyle and the unfortunes that unfold and my memories of downtown Aurora, IL.
Got the glock cocked back
The sucker crouching toward the pavement
Screaming he was gonna get it to me soon
Saying he's gonna get me that payment
"Fucking bitch it's been 2 weeks" I cried out as I kicked the dumpster
"You ain't paid the other half, don't make me call my homie's number!"
He pleads "I can get it to you soon"
"Just give me a couple hours"
"No bitch I needed it now, and now that I have the power"
"I'm gonna cap your ass like it was nothing, just another day for me"
"And you'll be sorry you didn't kiss your kids good night instead of smoking weed!"
Pop.
:lol:
now that was funny
Thanks.
Originally Posted by DanaC
That made me laugh quite a lot.
why?
it wasn't nice. I guess you're a lj lover.
congradulations
Sky...I thought your attack on him was nasty and unprovoked. Lj can be a twat at times(as indeed can most of us), and on those occasions I call him out on it. On this occassion I didn't think he was being a twat, I thought he was being funny to break the tension. That poem was a way of saying lighten up. When I read your post to lj, I thought "Sky is way over reacting" and was going to post something to the effect of "Hey Sky, lighten up you're taking this too seriously". Lj beat me to it in his response and I thought that was quite a funny way of saying lighten up.
An Lj lover? No. But nor am I an Lj hater. You overreacted (imo) to harmless humour and launched an unnecesary attack. That attack was batted away with humour and I laughed. If Lj had launched a nasty attack on you I would not have found it funny. I didn't see it as a nasty attack. Nor would I have seen it as a nasty attack if he'd said it to me.
I would agree there are times when Lj's humour borders on the cruel and there have been times in the Cellar that I have taken great exception to what I considered bullying behaviour. There's a difference between seeing that someone is bullying and assuming that it's bullying merely because it's Lj who's posting.
Sky...you surely know me well enough on these boards to know I am not fond of cruel humour. Lj wasn't being cruel he was being lighthearted. As your friend (I sincerely hope) I am suggesting that you lighten up. I apologise if this upsets you. Nor am I inclined to take offense at your attack on me.
'tain't no hijack
'tain't your thread
internet ownership
is in your head
Don't you think it's hypocrisy
to criticise other's poetry?
It may look like squabbling, taking the piss
But I'm gonna ask y'all to consider this:
sky and lj are painting pictures
with their real-time intenet bitches
Who are we to judge that stuff
They joined in, ain't that enough?
Not all poetry scans and rhymes
Not all words relate pretty times
this is the poetry of the cellar
No fucking wonder we're all going to hell here
Nothing quite fits.
It all seems normal until you're in it, and then the bottom falls out.
I need water wings for relationships.
Think I'll just drown.
oh monster
seeing the canoe
the fight to ensue
paddling down the creek of poo
does what any good monster would do
she'll beat the ---- out of you.
bar none bar none bar the nuts of an octopus nuts of an octopus nuts bar none
My ditty was about you monster. You probably couldn't tell. I know it sucks.
Sky...I thought your attack on him was nasty and unprovoked. Lj can be a twat at times(as indeed can most of us), and on those occasions I call him out on it. On this occassion I didn't think he was being a twat, I thought he was being funny to break the tension. That poem was a way of saying lighten up. When I read your post to lj, I thought "Sky is way over reacting" and was going to post something to the effect of "Hey Sky, lighten up you're taking this too seriously". Lj beat me to it in his response and I thought that was quite a funny way of saying lighten up.
An Lj lover? No. But nor am I an Lj hater. You overreacted (imo) to harmless humour and launched an unnecesary attack. That attack was batted away with humour and I laughed. If Lj had launched a nasty attack on you I would not have found it funny. I didn't see it as a nasty attack. Nor would I have seen it as a nasty attack if he'd said it to me.
I would agree there are times when Lj's humour borders on the cruel and there have been times in the Cellar that I have taken great exception to what I considered bullying behaviour. There's a difference between seeing that someone is bullying and assuming that it's bullying merely because it's Lj who's posting.
Sky...you surely know me well enough on these boards to know I am not fond of cruel humour. Lj wasn't being cruel he was being lighthearted. As your friend (I sincerely hope) I am suggesting that you lighten up. I apologise if this upsets you. Nor am I inclined to take offense at your attack on me.
this is a long fucking post
this is a long fucking post
Is that anything like a scratching post?
Is that anything like a scratching post?
hehehe nice metaphor. I think I like you sir. ;) a true poet you are
My ditty was about you monster. You probably couldn't tell. I know it sucks.
I'm sorry, dear sky, of course I could tell,
but i'm up to my eyeballs in all kinds of hell,
and I was so flattered
my speech it was battered
given the day I've had, that's prolly just as well.....
this is a long fucking post
Yep. Seemed important at the time :P
The pretty young lady lady who did my nails
Didn't want to take her time
Brrrrrrr went the sander in her hand
Red went the skin on mine
She looked at the offending digit
And made a little soothing sound
Was she admitting she was at fault?
Or trying to heal the wound?
The owner redid my nails in the end
Berating her in Korean
I think her reply to him may have been
"It was like that when I got here!"
I like to think when she went home
And told of her day much later
She resentfully said that she was blamed
For a lady with stigmata
this is a long fucking post
more importantly, it's a long fucking post about lj.
Imagine that you are about to sleep alone again
For the fourth night, or the sixth, or the first.
Imagine that the wolves come to tear away at your soul
Each moment that you lie alone in your sheets.
Then imagine that you will never be alone again.
The wolves will still be there, eyes glowing at the fringe of your awareness.
you're coalescing
dream stuff gathering substance
wispy swirls of desire
unseen but perceived
calling to my nerves
compelling me
Nice one BigV!
Today my car made it 16 miles in
and 16 miles back
to the nearest town
on a whif of gas.
Scents can compel memories
like nothing else -
so they say.
My Toyota remembered the muddy ruts
between here and there, and
drifted home carrying the smell
of autumn's rain.
devoured by starving wolves,
the skeleton still had breath
in it's bare-boned chest
it gasped out, in passing,
a last mistake, a last request,
before collapsing
[SIZE="1"] [thinking out loud] I vote we (and by we I mean you guys, I'm not so poetic) all get together and publish "Teh Cellar Book Of Poems"
all proceeds fall directly to the tip jar? :D or fund the cellar GTG...or hire someone else to do IOTD for UT? hmm...the possibilities are endless [/thinking out loud] [/SIZE]
They say you donate to charity
But all you really are supporting is your fat ass and wallet
Cheap ass
American businessman
American businessman behind his desk
built his business to be the best
Your dad works for him, gets a check
and you think to judge him, you little prick.
We got a plan, so down with the Man!
ock, cock
love it. minimalist and yet mocking the masses with an almost ironic application of rhyme
Yo,
you're in teh cellarz, here's how it goes
Now you're a dwellar, reading bad prose
here in teh cellar, dwell sleaze and hos
there's lj who sucks, and flint who blows
there's jinx with her fantabulous boobs
(btw where's that vid on youtubez?)
there's nerds and wankers, old farts and n00bs
And Bri and Sundae -oh, back to boobs!
there's bruce and wolf -who make us behave
oh and there's elspode -wholly depraved
Ib is confused and Dana is brave
some are fucked-up and some are called Dave
You may feel you fit, you may feel strange
Whatever you need, we have full range
From deep thought to erratic deranged
-Now I must warn you, we eat your brains
so toss out any hot topic, we'll rock it
stop drop and roll if your scope is myopic
we'll blow your mind through your eye socket
and throw your behind to the troll to dropkick
so don't be schocked, we're locked and loaded
you got cold-cocked by a bastard who's bloated
and fat like a pig, oh, my bad, he's just big
my finger slipped when I wrote that shit
Yo, yo, yo, the man flint said it
said what? not sure, just some real shit
you know, like deep stuff and... Brad Pitt
yeah, that Angelina, she has nice tits
You better lose yourself in the cellar, the dwellars
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
LJ, This guy comes once in a lifetime yo
I'm just.... big.. boned!, I got skillz, and hey...
you wish you was me!.... justcuzza>>> who i lay
my jinx got back!... and bumpy frontage too
just ask richlevy!, you know you can trust that jew.
oh bumpy frontge, uh bumpy frontage
you know ya gotta plan for dat saggage
or may be not if ya hot and and ya got
a decent package wit no no baggage
I don' wanna go here, I need more beer
Dis is not clear,gemme outta here
I want man boobs or maybe chest hair
I don't wanna go to no les lair
The bumpy frontage, i wish was mine, bitch
yes i am a bust-coveting hag witch
Do boobs go throught that seven year itch?
now I need an organic club sandwich
That's right girl Cellar's the place for your sexin
Arr Eff Enn for your bad self flexin
We got butt shots tit shots cocks and backs and
There might even be a muthafuckin Texan
You can dream about hittin it male or female
Don't try young Ibby you'll get sent to the fed jail
Theres all kina shit up here on the menu
Hit up the tip mug if you want it continued
Wow, that's surprising, Shawnee deleted another post... ( I read it though, and took a screen shot because I knew she would)
You're a very small person Shawnee - and a coward. I pity you.
Such talent in the rest of this thread though. Srsly. :notworthy
Yeah, I felt it was too mean, even for me...but go ahead and post it, you're so smart for screen shotting it.
Give your pet rat a biscuit and have her lay down on the foot of your bed.
God I so wanted you to like me.
Yeah, I felt it was too mean, even for me...
In your edit you said it was too good - now that I might post it - it was too mean. Coward.
Oh dear, did I cause more trouble? I really should not come here when imbibing, sorry anyone I offended, you're all wonderful
what do you do
when the one you want to see
is gone and she isn't there
how can you deal
with your family, no less
because the chair she sat in is bare
where can you find the strength
to accept
that there's nothing you can do anymore
why does it always become so easy
to cry about it
until your face is sore
you were just a kid
she was your big sister
6 years have past
and you still truly miss her
there is no feeling as bad
that truly makes you sad
like knowing the girl you looked up to and loved
is now finding her way up above
without you
she's not here anymore
how i did adore
my big sister
i love you Ann
Rose's are red, Violet's are blue
Rose is alive, Violet's worm poo
Both did bad drugs, Rose went for blow
Violet was hard, she chose the snow.
That's ...
very colorful, monster.
Isn't it late - where you are?
Monster I liked that. It cheered me up after reading jeb's heartbreaker.
Jeb, that was a really lovely poem.
I came in yesterday at lunch to post a poem. It was just after Jeb had posted, and I couldn't write anything after reading his.
I still can't.
"Internet Breakup "
looking back on a lifetime
of hyperlinks, youtubes,
and jokes about boobs
where a grammar nazi's
potshot sees our way into
a world of webby wideness
inside this heart of mine
I still recall the valentine
"I choo-choo-choose you"
and I never thought I’d ever lose you
with references that clever, I thought
the good times might last forever
we wept when Dubya was elected
wept together and bared our souls
though of course, we never slept together
except, in our imaginations, in text
vicarious instant message quotations
our sad simulations of actual sex
so maybe it's better this way, maybe
we're better off as friends, alone
and in the end…
we'll always have bananaphone
Inspired by
IOTD (but could have other interpretations)
"To be on a satellite,
or on a ship
that does a satellite become,
is to know the attraction
for a planet
but never to know the touch;
endlessly to fall -
yet endlessly to miss."
So saying, the professor leaped to his
apparently
senseless
life
And while expecting 'death'
so many others
died.
The Cellar
Down here
Dark things can thrive
The sort of things
You wouldn't want in your soup
Down here
Strong things can grow
Out of the light
But honest as the day
Down here
I have been helped
I have been liked
And I have shown my minge
lol I must have missed the minge post sg:P
I steal ideas from the internet
if all the anonymous shmoes
I chose to plagarize, arose
to gouge out my eyes
I'd hide inside the Cellar,
bide my time, for months,
as a friendly feller, disguised
to blend in with you ċunts
... ( I read it though, and took a screen shot because I knew she would)...
I missed that post, Precious. Would you post that screen shot for me? Or were you lying about that, too?
Stop it... just fucking stop it.
As I painted the deck
I could hear the squirrels
chirping out some morse code
As I wondered the text
I could see the squirrels
reporting on my home
"Big nut spotted, near the nest
on the flat branches, called decks
Using a false fluffy tail
To spread out poo from a pail"
One Tuesday morning, when the fog was gloomy glum
I thought to myself, it's time for a new poem
Something cleansing, something fresh. something so brand new
Something so way out there, eclipsing all the poo
Sadly there the process stopped, brain was all fogged up
No wowness to be found inside a coffee cup
So you read with hopes all raised, waiting for the joke
Only to reach the end and realise there's no hope.
An anticlimax, I'm all done, ....well just about
I forgot one important thing I oughta shout
Whenever you feel down, depressed, or just sick
For the love of cock, don't forget to eat a dick.
monday it was 88 degrees
i sweated and wished there was a breeze
today it was 50 degrees
i shivered and wished i didn't where my white tee
october
signs of global warming?
what the hell
though that movie was alarming
al gore
one day soon
you'll wake up dead
and you'll remember
these words I've said
and when you awake
on the day of your death
and take, or don't take,
your first, or last, breath
and open your eyes
and lie in your bed
you'll realize
you're deceas-ed
a, b, c, b
d, e, d,e , f, g, h, i,?
That don' rhiiime?!
:)
your face is a descent into madness
disconnected lines
struggling
to make an impossible connection
that botox has ƒucked you up
That was a photo of my backside.
could you get dingleberries on your face
if the bullshit flowed from a different place?
would your comments be…in poor taste?
I once had a cat.
And it was very fat.
When the time came to groom,
He meowed, "Mona Hatoum!"
Jumped into the chair,
And flew through the air.
And fell on a chair and he spat.
you drop, I clap
the cafeteria dance -hey!
(repeat)
something decimated
disparate sustenance
and upon the morrow
the traveller awakens
groggy & constipated
Lovely Flint!
(no that wasn't a title)
Despite my best attempts
Endeavours failed today
I should have stayed in bed
And dreamed the day away
Instead I walked and fumed
Until the sky was grey
But I was up and sober
Much healthier I say
Like this, Yoda talks.
Philosophy, he mocks.
Round and round I go
Flip the stone over
And grow more moss.
A little serious, but s'all I got, awwwright?
Borders and streets,
locales where pain and philosophy meet
out of the womb and into the fire,
no one to call me home
every lane looks the same
neither freeway, exit or offramp bears my name
so I keep moving forward, three steps at a time
trudging methodically, feet slapping against the painted line
running hungrily towards the immortal
and finding my reality in the animal
Dang, I need some prozac.
these are the things I cannot abide,
liars and cheaters and waiting in line
a cold stone floor and a fan too loud
bulbs burnt out and a room without sound
these are the things I cannot abide,
those without dreams living fake lives
a car out of gas a bill thats unpaid
freaks, vagrants, fuckers and strays
these are the things I cannot abide,
loving too little and a life out of sync
saying youre sorry, not what you really think
faceless victims, fairy tales, secrets and kink
these are the things I cannot abide,
that man is an island crafted of bones and nested in skin
a harsh outer shell incapable of taking another in
hidden roots under fallen leaves
separated by a sour ocean of sensations and stimuli
billions of people crammed together
yet left apart,
drifting into a void without echo.
Do limericks count? I wrote some on serial killers one day when I was bored.
Jeffery Dahmer
So Wisconsin's a dairy state, is it?
Perhaps we'll give Jeffery a visit.
Though his kitchen's quite ghoulish
We shouldn't be foolish;
His head cheese is simply exquisite!
Ed Gein
Though some say he crossed o'er the line,
Ol' Ed Gein did try to combine
His need for some lampshades
With the use of some dead maids
And invented interior design.
Jack the Ripper
Though Jack went to visit a grayed whore,
He wasn't looking to get laid more.
With his surgical kits
He took naughty bits,
So he certainly "got" what he paid for.
Dingle, I may already have welcomed you, but this is to say you are really welcome.
Fantastic effort, I like attention to meter in a limerick.
You'll fit right in :luv:
You'll fit right in :luv:
:beer: Cheers.
there was a young man from newcastle,
who once did a poo in a parcle,
he sent it by post,
to his friend on the coast,
who unwrapped it and exclaimed what an arsehole!
Newcaaarstle? ya gotta be posh. Did you just make that up?
The Toon Army? The Geordies? Fuck them. Blue is the colour.
The Toon Army? The Geordies? Fuck them. Blue is the colour.
Hey! I like Geordies! (and you're wrong the colour is patently red!)
*Does the Man Utd topping the Prem League dance*
Oh, I forgot... There are people in England who actually like Man U. But Arsenal's top of the table right now, are we still living in last year? In that case...
*Does the Chelsea beating Man U for the FA Cup dance*
My poem is very spontaneous.
Not going to any great pains, I'm just
Writing a few lines down here in the dust.
Now you can criticize this if you must.
Oh, I forgot... There are people in England who actually like Man U. But Arsenal's top of the table right now, are we still living in last year? In that case...
Arsenal was top of the table and if they win against Liverpool in their next match they'll be back there.....but until that Man U are back at the top (where they belong!)....Arsenal has two games in hand though, so it's a temporary thing :P
*Does the Chelsea beating Man U for the FA Cup dance*
That's nice dear :)
Ahh, crap, you're right. Rooney's still a clownpocket though ;) If you feel some hot breath on your neck, that's my Blues finally coming around and charging back up to the top of the table where they belong. Whomped Man City 6 nil today :)
First post, I'm kinda inspired; No rhyme, no meter, no nothing but free and slightly structure stream-of-consciousness. I hope you like it.
mankind is a terrible beast
we do things without thinking
no rhyme no reason
(like this poem. seriously)
i ate a sandwich the other day
and threw the crusts to the birds
so my hair would not curl
(any more than it already is)
and i watched the sparrows
little judas birds squabble and fight
taking the bread and trying to fly
(there is reason to digression,
wait and i'll explain why)
then i thought about the worms
deep and moist below ground
safely hidden away
(or so you'd think)
except when they surfaced
carrying minature mua'dib
and are then snapped away by the early bird
(and herein lies the tragedy of my poem)
for mankind is a terrible beast
we take we eat we ruin we procreate disaster
and noone thinks about the worms
(unless they want to lure fish from the deep)
so when miles and miles and miles
are paved with concrete
the worm knows nothing of the world above
(like we know of the world below)
and so he surfaces and crawls
and crawls and crawls
looking for enlightenment
(aren't we all)
but we never question ever
what it's like to die
when your head is crushed
by a skateboard wheel.
Welcome to the Cellar, ElBandito. :D
Cool! Thanks. I look forward to loads of future posts! :D
he came, he saw, he posted prose
that is how cellaritis goes
first the serious, then the silly
next the debate 'bout havin' a willy
Welcome ElBandito! Good start mate. I really liked that poem. I love the description of 'Judas birds' especially.
An Ode to my workday...
The workload isn’t heavy for the Data guy some days,
And folder checking makes him want to set his stack ablaze.
So since the boss is absent (which is truly not a shame)
Dingle then gets busy with amusement as his aim.
He thought “If only Guinness was allowed to be drank at
The cubicle of my despair, this wouldn’t be half bad.”
But alcohol is frowned upon (even during break!)
So Dingle then must ponder “better” deeds to undertake.
Then interruptions come in forms of letters to be mailed,
Of policies to enter, and of food to be inhaled.
But in the downtime websites only keep him entertained
For a short time with banter 'fore his eyesight becomes strained.
And e-mail forwards become dull when read in heavy doses.
And too much sour cream and chive dip causes halitosis.
Oh somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright.
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
And somewhere men are toiling at their cubicles all-out.
But there’s one less data entrist…
Sneaky Dingle just snuck out.
There once was a student with a plan.
He sat thinking hard and then BAM!
A thought in his head, he got out of bed,
Hoping this material he could cram.
The wind is my wife
The rain is her beauty
The night is her soul
And he's giving 5-1 odds! ;)
She regularly beats his line.
A shadow dances over broken ground
Rippling as it flees, stretching, seeking.
A Black dancing Eagle makes no sound,
Shimmering as it flees, retching, peeking.
A Cowboy sights along a line of sight
death awaits in bristling barrells bright
A click, a pop, a kick, and swift flight
the bullet pulls the Bird down into the light.
Lake Winona
Water like glass
Black flies bite my ankles
Butterflies in my hair
A shadow dances over broken ground
Rippling as it flees, stretching, seeking.
A Black dancing Eagle makes no sound,
Shimmering as it flees, retching, peeking.
A Cowboy sights along a line of sight
death awaits in bristling barrells bright
A click, a pop, a kick, and swift flight
the bullet pulls the Bird down into the light.
A scene from brokeback mountain? :headshake
Just think of the movie "The Birds" ...Poor Romo
It's a pretty darn good poem, though.
The road has a pull like the sea,.
The roaring beast calls to me as the roar of surf
trapped in a metaling box embraced the freedom on imprisonment
running faster than the wind to the beating pules of an endless roar
The lights the only path on the black river.
With darkness so absolute it solidifies in is inky ethereal presents
the light we fight off the abyss
as our forbears did with camp fire light
knowing that anything can be possible out there
in the endless void.
We push on the ends roar beckons us
for it is Manifest Destiny
to the west
we go.
Overwhelmed and lost,
the confused mind becomes still.
Unlike the chipper
From here.
Bravo ZenGum!
I almost forgot
but I have to know
what movie are you watching, jim?
your movie interests top the list
of shit about which I don't give a shit
so please don't forget to tell me it
Your schlong's too long,
Ur doing it wrong
Got a snake dong
Ur doing it wrong
Don't use your tongue
Ur doing it wrong
Minute is long
Ur doing it wrong
Lament
When I think of LJ
I lose my mind
My hips gain sway
My seat makes grind
My hot blood pulses
Through my veins
Too bad he's married
To a beauty with brains
Mouth Hunger is the Enemy
I have eaten well today
My stomach is quite satisfied
But my mind is turning to the fridge
There's a jar of sour cream inside
Inside the freezer there is bread
And buttery toast would be such bliss
But I do not need the extra fat
Why sabotage my plans like this
It seems unfair when I work hard
I'm trying to be fit and thin
I'm saddled with this hungry mouth
I'm fighting the enemy within
He was singing and playing guitar
Each one louder than the last
She in turn had headphones on
And her Nintendo up full blast
They didn't hear the wolves outside
As they came in, red in tooth and claw
They ate the noisy couple, then
They licked their chops and went next door
Now this pair had no music on
They sat before the fire and read
The wolves had no chance eating them -
They went and ate their kids instead
Don't pollute the world with noise
Beware the deafening machines
You'll miss your chance to 'scape the wolves
And send them upstairs to your teens.
SG those are awesome. That second one in particular.
You woke me up now
I only slept 16 hours
I need some more sleep
*applauds* nice one Andoria!
spontaneously
haiku is far easier
than meter and rhyme
:)
Nice work Andoria.
There's a
haiku thread if you like.
yay! redirecting..
this cellar is big.. like Jung's collective unconcious big..
jung like lung and sung and wrung
of course, of course, of course
but jay like say and whey and fey
or why like Pie and sigh and try
dunno, dunno, dunno
Finals appear at the coming dawn
End of the semester not too long
Staying up 'til nite is day
How I hope I receive the A
Cram
Inspiration...a flat word in this moment
My motivation is sucked to the screen
Black and white letters are so lovely
Real colors fail to convey
I don't know where I am right now
Where has it all gone?
Perhaps it flew away
When I began to beat my head
With the club
That told me I am not good enough
Is it that I can't compete?
Or fail to even try?
But why?
So, I let it fly
Again today...
like so many other days...
And many to come
Safely I land in afternoon
With no room
For expectation
Just routine
Dead ring in his ears
Black soot on his clothes
The smell of burnt timbers
Entrenched in his nose
From old ones, and young ones, and dead ones
He ran
Small fingers gripping
A gasoline can
Through rivers of concrete
The docks and the slum
The orange horizon
The deepening hum
Beneath the cold reek
Of driftwood and crabs
He buries it deep
Though he's already mad
Panic eats mobs
As hydrates roar
He stands wide-eyed
On the glistening shore
The din of the dying
Toes wet in sand
The call of his uncle
The gasoline can
Gruff men coo
As they take him away
Between white lips
Of sheets he'll stay
A ceiling above him
A nun at his side
His twitches lost
Under empty eyes
The red-rimmed pride
As the bullies ran
The fleeting respect
Of the gasoline can
If nerves would let him
He'd gnaw off his hand
The wicked mistake
Of the gasoline can
Here's the one i wrote this morning
ConSCRIPtion Cadence
I wanna be your scrip fundraiser
I wanna get my 5 percent
I’m gonna make it nice and easy
I’m gonna nag without relent
1,2,3,4 come on down to the scrip store
1,2,3,4 -5 percent’s easy, let’s get more
I wanna get your standing order
You’re gonna be a regular
No more hiding in the corner
I’m gonna make you a scrip star
1,2,3,4 come on down to the scrip store
1,2,3,4 -5 percent’s easy, let’s get more
For those who don't know, Scrip is a fundraiser for non profits where people buy shopping gift cards through us at face value, but we pay less than face value for them. Typically the profit is 5%. I run this for my kids school. The year before me, they made $7K, last year (my first) we made $19.2K, this year I'm going for $25K. I started writing weekly scrip "news" which soon featured cheesy poems. Apparently they are popular and I get requests. this was inspired by regular.joe and his user title.
I"ve got a sore throat
Nothing can help me soothe it
what about altoids?
I"ve got a sore throat
Nothing can help me soothe it
what about altoids?
Altoids? are they like hemorrhoids, only higher up?
Altoids? are they like hemorrhoids, only higher up?
Nah, they're like a hard, supersonic mint-type thing-y. You're in Japan? You've no altoids? What about mentos?
you need to grow up
you make me throw up
so get mad and blow up
the parking lot: show up
[COLOR="White"]get to' up from the flo' up[/COLOR]
The cat
sat on a mat
and said "drat"
where's my tail at?
The cat
sat on the mat
and was posted by drax
Death to small kittens
Death to red roses
Death to grown men
With snot on their noses
Death to the athletes
And those that languor
Death to all friends,
Family, and strangers
While I was using the toilet and thinking about nothing,
I noticed a gnat on the rim of the sink,
Crawling slowly across
What I’m sure was
A vast, dipping, featureless waste.
I forgot about him in the time it took me
To finish my business and zip up my pants.
I only noticed him again as I turned on the water faucet
And washed my hands.
Had he stayed put, clinging to the edge of the sink,
Impossibly confused, terrified,
He would have been all right.
But he panicked, and flew straight into the unfathomable torrent
To be washed down into the gapping abyss
And taken to the stinking land of the dead,
Where so many other hapless insects had gone before him.
I felt like God.
I looked, I could see her
She couldn’t see me
I sat at my table
I sipped at my tea
Hidden behind
A vase and its flowers
I continued to gaze
For what seemed like hours
And what if she saw me?
What then would I do?
Panic most likely –
Well, wouldn’t you?
I’d jump with a start
And have a mishap
Knock over the vase
Pour tea in my lap
Feel it burn through my trousers
Hit my tenderest place
Try hard to conceal it
Go red in the face
Then let out a cry
Of pain that’s for sure
Leap up from the table
See it crash to the floor
Catching my trousers
And hoisting them down
Left there in my boxers
A right red-faced clown.
Everyone facing me
Staring, jaws dropped
My petard well hoisted
My concealment a flop
Enough of such danger
I’ve had my fill
She’s not all THAT pretty
‘Hey waiter, the bill!.
i think
therefore i am
thinking
therefore
am i
?
yes.
you are.
...
drunk, most likely.
Cyclefrance, that was a good one. I like a poem with a punchline.
Tobacco is a dirty weed
I like it
It satisfies no normal need
I like it
It makes you thin it makes you lean
It tears the hair right off your bean
It's the worst darn stuff I've ever seen
I like it
(I cheated, not spontaneous...this was on my grandpa's tobacco holder thing. I must have read it a thousand times over the years because it's committed to memory.)
He leans on support beams
In a bar in New Orleans
As the shadows and corners
Stow devious things
She's there across hardwood
In a tight little dress
Drinks hard-hitting cider
Dark hair, swollen breast
He slides to her side;
He'd take nothing less
Eyes blaze sapphire
Harder than the rest
She closes in soft
Makes love with her hands
She leads him out back
Into black, misty lands
Her home is a relic,
Yellow paint, yellow dust
He doesn't see a thing
Only curves, only lust
Her rooms, empty caverns
Her white skin like ice
Her bed smells of mothballs,
Of old piss and lice
Her lips, silky leeches
Her teeth used with care
The tips of her fingers
Do more than their share
To transform his body
To blind skin and hair;
The last thing he smells
Is his blood in the air
She lies with him, wilting
For hours on end
Her own brassy man
Her own secret friend
"I'll love you forever,"
Her words at his ear
"'Til your bones turn to dust,
And I'm empty of tears."
Heh, Cyclefrance's poem inspired me. Bars and mating dances and whatnot. It happens to be a gloomy, tornado-warning day outside.
Hunker down and slap you silly
Here's a friend; his name is Billy.
Hair is purple, eyes are red,
Only 'cause he's in your head.
He'll be anything you want -
A rusty spoon, an elephant.
And if his dick promotes distress,
He'll shed his crotch, and grow some breasts.
I've got an ache on for bacon
but I want to be thinner
calorie-free bacon
that would be a winner
Or something to stop me
wanting bacon for dinner
That's what the vomitorium is for.
salamander, are you really writing these poems?
cuz damn.
I am indeed. Making silly/fucked up little poems is what I do with bits of my free time anyway; I just figured it'd be more entertaining to write them here, where I don't have to wonder how to word something better, and they come out more...spontaneously.
By the by, it'd be interesting to see how a modern public vomitorium would look.
Wash our clothes
In the kitchen sink
If any's left
It's just red ink
If they saw her
Never fear
Landlord thinks
We're raging queers
If she stinks
We'll crank the fan
Bury her deep
In desert sand
Drive through pitch
As Vegas snores
Don't you fret
She's just a whore
By the by, it'd be interesting to see how a modern public vomitorium would look.
The ladies' bathroom at Vogue magazine HQ, I would think.
Heh...was thinking a big long urinal-esque thing against the wall, with gripping handles...and a garbage disposal? Who knows!
Perhaps, in this age of recycling, it might be more like the local dump/recycling center, with different receptacles for each grade of barf. Obviously there would be an "allergy aware" section for peanut-free barf. Should we consider carrots, i wonder?
.....big silence.....
OK so in the UK, the standing joke is that barf always contains carrots whether you ate them or not. Does this humour extend beyond the borders of the British Isles?
Nah, we just laugh at corn in our poo.
:lol:
I'm
fucked.
it's an imagist poem.
Love is tender
Love is sweet
Love is a freight train
Made of meat
Love is fickle
Love is cold
Love is a ticket
Long since sold
Love is foolish
Love is blind
May as well be
A cantaloupe rind
*Happy V-Day. I hope it sucks. Unless it is good.
I have come for the friendship you sought...
Perhaps it is not
What I thought
Should we meet on another day
I may say
Go away
But not today
That's all I got
roses are red
violets are blue
I've got a raging hard-on
and it's turning blue
thanks, I'll be here all week.
Ode to the family pet
[COLOR=black]Spam is indeed good[/COLOR]
[COLOR=black]Good deeds forever dead[/COLOR]
[COLOR=black]Roasting over wood[/COLOR]
[COLOR=black]Evil needs to be fed[/COLOR]
*Spam was our pot bellied pig. Miss him we do!*
Black hearted fellow
Girlie is gonna squeal
Pulse slows, is mellow
Enjoys her, yes he will
The Job (Haiku)
Bring home the bacon
Family’s needs over mine
Sells urinal cakes
I'm going with a Limerick: (gross)
DOUCHE
There was a man from Nantucket
He was enough douche to fill a bucket
He went down to the river
To dissolve his liver
But the jug was dry so he decided to f*** it.
i'm not comfortable with that
not at all when it comes down to it
the message is as unclear as a dick in your ear
and the rhyme and the meter are shit
[COLOR=#393925][FONT=Verdana][COLOR=black]i’m down with that[/COLOR][/FONT][/COLOR]
[COLOR=black]comfort ain’t all it’s worth, I hear[/COLOR]
[COLOR=black]might need to speak up[/COLOR]
[COLOR=black]something is wigglin in my ear[/COLOR]
There was a Jim from Nantucket-
Uncomfortable with an empty jug and douche bucket-
He was unclear-
Even with a dick in his ear-
Probably just unsure of where else to tuck it.
:)
You guys didn't know I was so talented...didja?
:p
Well, I guess I said I would share my poem for DB this Valentines:
Shivering slightly
Caffeinated lightly
I manage to suppress
The urge to manifest
My secret desire
For what may transpire
Later in the day
When you have come my way
My not so secret love
Straight to my mind you shove
All thoughts of joy
All time with my boy
No, not boy, but man
You say you have the plan
To reconvene
Most everything
For the purpose of
Our rejuvenated love
Thank you to god
For something quite odd...
A lover and friend
With whom I will gladly spend
All my life
As your wife
attn: motherfuckers who have stole my jokes
what time is it when it's time to go to the dentist?
tooth hurty
and when the clock strikes midnight
I sink my dagger into your plagarism
I have a hard-on for vengance
Hangin out to dry,
I'm just...hangin.
thought I'd take a stand,
I'm just...fallin,
Bangin on this two tone drum,
and look around to find no-one,
hangin out to dry,
I'm just hangin.
Bangin out a a rythm of defeat.
Where'd the troops go this time?
Where'd they vanish?
Tryin hard to stay up on my feet.
Hangin out to dry
For the last time.
Can't fight the war without
supply lines.
Leave it to the next big Voice,
hope they make a better choice
I'm just hangin out now for a time.
[eta] removed a line that didn't quite scan.....less spontaneous but I think it improves it...
Heart is thumping
Limbs are twitching
Eyes are leaking
Knuckles itching
Skin will likely
Split and crack
Shouldn't have pet
The goddamned cat
lol, like that Salamander
thanks; liked yours too.
It blew my mind last night, granted I was quite high
It slithers over rolls of fat,
Wet worm that's lithe and wry
It smells of water, rock and scat
And chicken when deep fried
No matter how you twist and slap
It coils round your head
Sinks its teeth deep in your fat
And snuggles till you're dead
meeting meeting
action item deadline
maggot-infested innards
in a shallow grave
a meaningless struggle
thank God, Jesus saves
[COLOR="White"]yes, Im being facetious[/COLOR]
All water has left me
Through the hole in my crotch;
It seeks better things
Than internal dry rot
You can see it in my eyes,
My skin, my snot
Hydrated and happy
Is something I'm not
can you...
fly so high
in the sky
make the birds below you cry?
eat a bowl
pay a toll
try not to overload?
do that thing
try to sing
have your telephone ring
but all you're really doin is...
sitting on your ass
smoking grass
passing gas then taking a nap
can you?
do something?
Oh I like that fresh. That's really good.
A fleshy lip that squirts and flips
It's stinky, sticky, wet, and rich
It's nice without the icky bits
But monkey business always is
this word rhymes with turd
this one sounds like something
else I have to think of one that goes
with the first one first let's do bird
and then the other one has a ring
to it when I got around to it I slew it
oops hold on let's stay on track
oh crap I just lost my place again
begin again with ring thing crack
crap flapjack halfstack Kerouac
paddywhack give a dog a bone
a hog a home alone phone
Hairs are trees
Flesh is dirt
Cheeks are mountains
North, a shirt
Down below,
A crater vast
Puckered tight
And full of gas
Sprawling over dawning stars
Rolling clouds that have your form
Watch the rain pour out your limbs
Green lands swell beneath your storm
Watch the cycle, day to night
Listen as cicadas swarm
Clouds are still, shriveled dry
Evening trickle is no more
Red Lobster and Sam’s by Dr. Scripp
It’s time for field trips
Said the Brit who sells Scrip
Oh no! said the snow
Oh no! said the blow
We will not go!
We do not want the melting ice
We do not like the weather nice.
We do not want kids out of doors
We do not like it when it thaws
Tough luck, Winter’s Grip
Said the Brit who sells Scrip
Time’s up, winter snow
Time’s up winter blow
Now you must go
The Parent Are Here! Quick, you must flee!
The parents are here to buy scrip and get free
Free what? said the winter, defeated and awed
Free cash said the Scripster as she opened her store
We can fund field trips and
New classroom equipment
We can send the all the kids to the moon
We can repaint the hallways
With murals for always
And teach them to play merry tunes.
Oh the things they will see
Oh the thinks they will think
Oh the landscapes they’ll eat
Oh the ideas they will drink
Alas, said the Brit
The Brit Who sell Scrip
This cannot happen
Not one tiny bit
Unless…..
I like it.
I had to imagine an English accent on a couple lines; then they suddenly rhymed.
(It's in honor of Dr Seuss month)
goddess, all you people are wunderkind!
I like them all, but daymn, giant salamander--yours are beaUtiful! Esp.#244 & #250. That, my friends, is art.
Thanks Brianna. I'm glad my measured brain farts have a pleasant odor. :)
I like monster's Seuss tribute even more on the second read...
They tickle as they crawl inside
Tingling creeks beneath my skin -
I'd love to twitch until I pop;
I never should have let them in
Anxious ants crawl deeper still
Tendons darting, nerves are fried -
I'd love to run until I drop,
But endings are all
Paralyzed
Feed on worry, gorge on fear
Nests that droop beneath my eyes -
I'd love to sleep, and leave this place,
But marching echoes through the night
thanks guys. It's for the school newsletter to promote the scrip fundraiser.
A peaceful village deep in fright
Fear of slaughter in the night
another will attack again
time is irreversable, and night will never end!
As I draw near
mortals run in fear
no souls going to the sky
now its time for you to die!
Father, forgive me not
for I have sinned
I have no Remorse
and night will never end!
not about a village. about an insane man. It is acually the lyrics to one of my band's songs XD. It took me lik, 5 hours to write from my sick mind.
Here I sit, a little drunk
Not much patience, for the punk
Who can't be bothered -trith be told-
To read posts more than 5 mins old
chocolate milk is for nincompoops
dingleshmootz. dingleshmootz.
leather boa, feather boots
dingleshmootz. dingleshmootz.
absolute
absinthe loot
absent sleuth
dingleshmootz.
dingleshmootz.
dingleshmootz.
dingleshmootz.
beer is good
beer ia great
much beer needs
sleep in late
Raise my feet, bring them down
Ram rooftops into the ground
Old worlds' blood upon my lips
Impaled kings upon my crown
Spread my arms and crack the sky
Clamor of six billion cries
Homeworld breaks for the abyss
I breathe of stars and learn to fly
Viscous seas of starlit milk
Empty kingdoms choked with silt
Crown drifts soft through silent storms
Naked scalp is left to wilt
New star pulls me to its fringe
Wrap my arms around my shins
Close my eyes against the Vast
Sleep until new life begins
persimmons as portents of doom
mister zippy, clean your room
lookout's taint by microsoft
this ain't exact but it sure ain't not
I submit,
there's no rhyme or reason
to what you've been sayin'
to wit, it's murderin' season,
and I'll do the slayin'
Tastes quite unfriendly,
Though it surely is sweet;
Something like swallowing
Undercooked meat
I’m on a steep ladder
with a weak bladder
and you’re below me
so blow me, homie
You are not blamed
For dancing on skin
All of us sway
To the Monkey's din
I hear a roar
I know that sound
It's closer now
I'm not afraid
I see it now
That well known sight
a plane flying
in the pattern
I hear a roar
I know that sound
moving slower
another plane
taxiing now
to the gas tanks
I hear a roar
I know that sound
familiar here
at an airport
for just 40 cents a month
you could feed a family for a week
for just 40 cents a week
you could feed a family for a month
a family of 40 could feed
a family of 4 for just 4 days
for 4 dollars each
but fuck all this math,
lets go to the beach.
If you don't get your honey
Diamonds for Christmas
You are a loser.
She will leave you.
If you don't get your cherub
Diamonds on Valentines
You will suffer
She will hate you
If you don't get your darling
Diamonds for Mothers Day
You're a bad father
She will shun you
When does it end?
All this spend spend spend?
What will come next?
Do we need emeralds for Paddy's day
Jet and Obsidian for MLK
Citrine and Sapphires when Michigan play
Knuckle-dusters for when you mother stays?
Oops
And when we are all spent
Do we give up gems for Lent?
I kept waiting for the "you should buy your sweetheart some scrip instead" punchline. :)
I'm saving that for April Fool's Day ;)
Lena, I really liked that. Monster's too.
Do that thing you do.
Go and try something new.
You'd better find yourself a clue.
Success you must pursue.
big butt at the grocery store
we happen to be shopping
on the same aisles
for a little while
when I saw that butt
it made me smile
(in my pants)
what a jiggle
I would pummel that
if I had a chance to hit some'a that
spit on your butthole and stick my thumb in
I need me a big butt to cum in
you're awesome, Flint.
that's beautiful.... (cries a little)
in, around, over and under
limbs and lips, flesh meets soul
twining as two, entangled as one
sound of twin hearts pounding in time
as they fall off the edge
together
silky dress clings to your cheeks
weak in the knees, I need to freak
lick your sweaty ass-crack for a week
it's sexual intercourse of which I speak
dewd. get a grippie
you're obsessing like a hippy
loves a tree
you need some P
ussy
Your words, dirty-hot
I'll think of them now
With microwaved glass,
Myself I will plow
Rimming and rutting,
Indeed, you're quite deft
Between your legs, nothing
But a gigantic "F"
Such a variety of effective prose in this wonderful, upstanding thread.
as i lay on the bed
waiting to go to sleep
i feel my thoughts dancing in my head
sometimes i wish i could turn back time
to see what i looked like
when things were fine
Of all the things I needed to do
Today I sit here thinking of you
About the way we used to be
the different ways you looked at me
Behind the face I could see the heart
Mine was cracking but yours was smart
One day, oh yes, I'll fly away
It will be my fault, I know you'll say
but I've made choices and here's another
I don't want to be, anymore, your mother.
But maybe you'll be the one to leave
and sit me here with my thoughts to grieve
I guess I'll sigh with what may come
but at least 'I' didn't need a gun.
So what you want from me is compliance
and not what you like to call 'defiance'
But listen up and listen good
I'm standing where I've always stood.
I'll not let you bring me down
Especially when there are people around
You shout and shout but what's even worse
You think that I am your curse.
So go tell your friends about the dragon
"eh one day, she'll go on the wagon"
But i sit here and be quiet and still
because I know it was you who made me ill.
Meh? it's off the top of my head. but i think it's readable.:D
so stop for a drink at a bar
then get right back in your car
and go buy a hello kitty guitar
a rocker is not what you are
hey girl
you came and went
it felt so right
my money you spent
after all these years
the things we've been through
it wasn't meant to be
but i did enjoy the sex too
maybe we'll get back together
maybe we will not
but the times that i had shared with you
will be certainly not forgot
The skies opened up
there was hell all around
but you fell through it
into my arms
I looked at you
I was amazed
something so beautiful
Out of all this rage
You searched my face
I smiled at you
You seemed to listen
as I said "I love you"
To cock up big time
is all the rage
No responsibility
in this golden age
Of all the things I needed to do
Today I sit here thinking of you
About the way we used to be
the different ways you looked at me
Behind the face I could see the heart
Mine was cracking but yours was smart
One day, oh yes, I'll fly away
It will be my fault, I know you'll say
but I've made choices and here's another
I don't want to be, anymore, your mother.
But maybe you'll be the one to leave
and sit me here with my thoughts to grieve
I guess I'll sigh with what may come
but at least 'I' didn't need a gun.
So what you want from me is compliance
and not what you like to call 'defiance'
But listen up and listen good
I'm standing where I've always stood.
I'll not let you bring me down
Especially when there are people around
You shout and shout but what's even worse
You think that I am your curse.
So go tell your friends about the dragon
"eh one day, she'll go on the wagon"
But i sit here and be quiet and still
because I know it was you who made me ill.
Awesome. The last three verses got inside my head.
Okay, very spontaneous....so rhythm and metre leave something to be desired:P
Sometimes,
the day dawns bright and shining with possibilities,
The sun drips through the trees,
and all is light with life and dreams.
Those days,
keep my soul from grief,
keep me from slipping underneath
the weight of some other day’s sorrow.
And then I wake in time to see,
Another human being flee
The news is all awash with
grim and supple suffering
Sometimes,
the day dawns barely at all.
And all the clouds I see are mine,
And I am caught in time’s cruel thrall,
Seeking something more divine
And then I sleep and am revealed
In my dreams the truth unpeeled,
My own vision of the truth
Will never see the morning.
I quite like that one. I'm having One Of Those Days myself (the barely dawning kind).
Sung (under your breath) to the tune of an advertising jingle:
:::spell out the admin password to a server:::
Like: "1, 2, 3, 4, A, B, C! For the tangy zip of..."
:::try to pronounce the hostname of the server:::
__________________
It was better when it was spontaneous. Please don't post your own examples of this.
routine
6 pm, just got home
pet, walk, feed the dog a bone
bread, butter, ham and cheese
grab the ketchup, give it a squeeze
do your dishes, clean the table
sit on the couch, turn on cable
rest your eyes, fall asleep
dream of things you wish to eat
wake up at 9, find the clicker
turn it off, unzip your zipper
change your clothes, turn off the light
your routine for every night
kiss the kids, ask the wife
she says no, that's your life
When the day’s long hours
Fall to ruin, fall to ash,
And the sky spits purple
‘Cross the night so vast,
A light can be seen
On the ridge above the hills;
Thin and empty, rusting,
Tall and dark and still
The sun never touches
Where his wild garden grows
He's there, amidst the riddles
Of a stranger's healthy glow
Climb the crags until you strike
The summit, where he waits.
He’ll hold you close, hold you down;
He smells of dust, of fate
The heart crashes softly;
Within his mouth, it shines
The sky becomes a void,
And loneliness divine
They’ll find you there, frozen stiff,
Forgotten and alone.
They’ll stow the husk beneath the earth
While women weep and moan.
Yet when the twilight blooms again
And grief has had its fill,
They’ll see your light, burning bright
On the ridge above the hills.
wow, salamander that's super.
yeah, right?
i'm totally ghey for giant salamander's poetry. fucking impressive, yo.
oh...and, giant salamander: a/s/l?
Thanks much, ya'll.
a/s/l = 25/male/Austin...so lumberjim, if you're ghey for it, just name the time and the seedy chatroom! (heh)
ew...not that kind of ghey. the other kind.
No worries; I was definitely being as sarcastic as a turd is ugly.
Though I've never heard the term "ghey" before today.
1. ghey
Usurping the traditional term GAY to take the homosexual meaning out and leaving in the lame.
That's so gay it's G-H-E-Y!
So anticlimactic.
The screen door slams
My uncle cringes--he's not used to children
We fly out in our swimsuits
Fishes, flowers, bath towels-
The wooden float beckons, the
Water glistens and
We dive from dock's end, swimming
Towards paradise, the liquid lake
I cannot write, Patterns repeating
and Not Good.
No good and no good luck.
Now I'm Leda, raped by that bite-y bird without
Helen and Clytemnestra to show for it.
Instead, I walk, the blood welling
It runs down these heavy, unsteady legs
Who is he? Who is he to tell me this?
They don't know: I need a respite.
My soul, sick and thin, barely alive
Sputtering, like my rusty Volkswagon
No good, no good luck
If i could just get the engine of my body to turn over
I'd set out for some Rescue Mission
I'd smash the bite-y bird into black pulp and there
He will have no good and no good luck.
This taco meat
It smells like feet
How can I eat
This taco meat?
I doused with salsa
I dumped on cheese
But feet-meat smell
It did not ease.
Don't ask for much
Not then, not now
Only that my taco meat
Smells more like a cow.
The screen door slams
My uncle cringes--he's not used to children
We fly out in our swimsuits
Fishes, flowers, bath towels-
The wooden float beckons, the
Water glistens and
We dive from dock's end, swimming
Towards paradise, the liquid lake
a suggestion:
Towards the lake, liquid paradise
A reminder, *all* my suggestions, poetic or otherwise, are worth at least twice what you pay for them; that's why I can offer my double your money back guarantee on all of them.
Dude, it's
spontaneous poetry; not mull-it-over-for-24hrs poetry.[COLOR="White"] . . . [/COLOR]People say some weird...
aggestions.
Yes. And there it is. For the future reading, consideration, reference, etc. Just as you have created a link to the aggestion post you created... more than 24 hours ago, Brianna might want to consider my suggestion in a similar situation.
But as for you, since you're unhappy with my suggestion, please feel free to redeem your 2x money back guarantee. The check's in the mail.
That's what a children says. Your post read and suggestion rendered, does it not change the facts? An adult says no.
I have a suggestion for you, too, Flint. Post *spontaneous* poetry here.
:::spontaneous boot to the head:::
I prefer the original, althought it's not as formulaic. But I agree with Flint. Making unsolicited suggestions for "improvement" on spontaneous poetry is bad form/manners. IMO of course.
Oh OK then here it is as a spontaneous Haiku
Rushing stream bumps rocks
A shining twisted ribbon.
Don't build a canal.
A boot to Big's poet head
From Flint. He kicked him!
Spontaneous? Gaping wound.
I know you are reading this poem, your
Legs tucked up under you, curlicued, a baby mouse,
alone on the cottage porch.
Looking for signs of my unhappiness, woven in the words,
like the woven afghan that covers your crooked spine,
anxious heart, those sweet curlicued legs.
There must be some blackened, hopeless message!
I am, after all, your girl.
[QUOTE=monster;444351]I prefer the original, althought it's not as formulaic. But I agree with Flint. Making unsolicited suggestions for "improvement" on spontaneous poetry is bad form/manners. IMO of course.QUOTE]
Well said. Seems criticism can only be given not received on his end of the spectrum.
Tables turned.
Alone in the dark.
What have you done.
Created your own destiny.
Alone.
I prefer the original, althought it's not as formulaic. But I agree with Flint. Making unsolicited suggestions for "improvement" on spontaneous poetry is bad form/manners. IMO of course.
Well said. Seems criticism can only be given not received on his end of the spectrum.
Tables turned.
Alone in the dark.
What have you done.
Created your own destiny.
Alone.
I'm curious, shina. Your sentence is ambiguous. What are you trying to say?
What's that you say?
Dost thou haveth reason for thy query?
Flames frothing over posts or
Ice daggers piercing my heart?
I count the stars and wonder.
:rolleyes:
I'm curious, shina. Your sentence is ambiguous. What are you trying to say?
Just that you get defensive quickly yet are fast to dispense it.
Nuf said. Onward to better pastures of reading young Tonto.
I don't see any of this defensiveness on my part you mention. Perhaps you could provide a citation? And what exactly am I quick to dispense?
I don't see any of this defensiveness on my part you mention. Perhaps you could provide a citation? And what exactly am I quick to dispense?
Criticism.
Poetry anyone?
Show me where I was quick to dispense criticism, please. I don't see any in this exchange. Perhaps you're thinking of a different thread or a different person.
Grayed skyline through an edge of glass
A springloaded black desk light cranes to help
My eyes squint and I can feel the tinge
on the right, near the back
move the neck, ear to shoulder
Did that get it?
nah.
still there.
a trenchcoat smells like rain
puddles splashing silently in my memory
as a child at school i stand in line
the gray day feels like wet heavy pain
we stand in the hallway line so violently
it all just stays the same
rivulets distort, raindrops dot
behind the window pane
eyelids get heavy watching the buses stop
it all melts into evening, night dinner
tv time on the carpet, bed already?
lie awake in the dark until i fade
away into tomorrow and do it again
again
ah gayne
I was just fuckin' around. Everybody quit bein' dicks.
dun dickin'
dun fuckin'
blame flin'.
Last night I dreamed I was svelte in a bikini,
This morning I day-dreamed of Chinese buffet,
This afternoon I'm worrying about speed dating;
Why don't my thoughts match up?
In truth though, I am happy with myself.
I have started to feel my own self-worth;
I am loved for who I am, not just by cats.
My dreams are robust enough to be walked on.
Show me where I was quick to dispense criticism, please. I don't see any in this exchange. Perhaps you're thinking of a different thread or a different person.
shina:
You got nothing.
I'll take the high road
And you take the low road
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye.....
Oh ffs, this is the Spontaneous Poem thread people, can we not keep this one free of conflict?
Hear the bison as they fall
Tumbling hooves heard through the wall
Pride in every muffled blow
Mangled heap is red and raw
Hear the silence as they thaw
Ecstasy heard through the wall
Air is wet, morning dim
Laughter lost within the maw
you know what? I'm taking two poetry courses this quarter and I'm gonna be in yur thread steelin' yur poims. HA! just TRY to stop me!
(for those of you who are literal moralists, I am kidding. got that? KIDDING)
I think we should vote for a Poet Laureate of the Cellarnet.
Good plan batman
But they have to write poems to commemorate Cellar events, like proper laureates. And not rubbish ones like our current Poet Laureate, Andrew Motion.
I think we should vote for a Poet Laureate of the Cellarnet.
I vote for Giant Salamander.
First, though, we need a nomination thread. And then a voting thread.
To warch re Andrew Motion:
He probably isn't all that bad
I've just never warmed to him is all
And the only place you seem to see his poems is the Daily Mail
perhaps because they are for formal state occasions
but after all - knowing his work is printed in the Hate Mail doesn't improve things
Glad you asked the question tho Warch - I'll probably read more just to see if my prejudice is justified
Ted Hughes was poet laureate of England while back and all those poems he wrote for the Queen kinda sucked. Seemed forced.
Do the bears chase fish in the stream?
Why do bullys have to be so mean?
If you could would you fly?
Over clouds what a sight!
Can the cities uphold
The traffic down below?
Do you live to make everything right?
If that's so...
Can you try with all of your might?
you know what? I'm taking two poetry courses this quarter and I'm gonna be in yur thread steelin' yur poims. HA! just TRY to stop me!
(for those of you who are literal moralists, I am kidding. got that? KIDDING)
I know where you live! Ohio may be a big place, but I've got one hell of a nose.
Poet Laureate, eh?
I foresee a Thunderdome brimming with ravenous poets, fluffy language ringing in the air, ground slick with brain juice.
I foresee a Thunderdome brimming with ravenous poets, fluffy language ringing in the air, ground slick with brain juice.
that's a poem right there.
an exercise for class (forgive me---it's bad but in a good way--like a chocolate jesus or similar)
Needius Worse than Ever
It’s a secured place so nobody need worry
Keys are given only to those stamped Staff,
and Cheryl is coming on, let’s get to it;
She’s makin’ time and a half.
Carlton is quite a good boy,
Takin’ his meds, a problem never;
Miss Minnie’s been droolin’ over snacktime hash-
but Needius is worse than ever.
We try to make the place look fit
And homey, we put up a Christmas tree-
Needius refused his meds and tripped
Right into it, skinned up his head and knee.
At suppertime, there was vanilla pudding
and Everyone loves that cup;
but Needius took the opportunity
to come to café and throw up!
At twenty-one hundred pill-time
he refused his anti-psychotic;
but I see that our shift (thank god) is over-
and Needius? Well, Cheryl’s got it.
My boy cat is licking my girl cat
He does this all the time--grooming her, lapping and smoothing her fur...
and she LOVES it (and kind of expects it, like royalty expects the genuflect)
but I think it's only because
My girl cat lets my boy cat have
SEX with her. Whenever he wants to.
It must be love.
He does this all the time--grooming her, lapping and smoothing her fur...
and she LOVES it (and kind of expects it, like royalty expects the genuflect)
Oooh. Love those two lines.
I can see the stripes in your underwear.
I might take a swipe. Or a bite. Would you care?
Would you mind if I took a chomp on your behind?
My dear. My dear. What a beautiful rear.
night time falls
all listen
dew on the grass
moonshine glisten
black cat wanders toward the town
my stupid poem makes me frown
I can see the stripes in your underwear.
I might take a swipe. Or a bite. Would you care?
Would you mind if I took a chomp on your behind?
My dear. My dear. What a beautiful rear.
That souds likeit should have been writtem by the FloBots....
http://www.lyricsmania.com/lyrics/flobots_the_lyrics_24339/other_lyrics_54916/handlebars_lyrics_563369.htmlBrianna!
Needius Worse Than Ever is proper poetry imho
And bear in mind my humble opinionated self reads a lot of it
It reminds me so much of U A Fanthorpe, who herself worked as a nurse on a psychiatric ward (I'll check that - I know she worked with mental patients)
You have a beautiful turn of phrase and some outstanding imagery
Just ETA because I've realised it might not be yours!
If it is, you amaze me.
You do anyway
Brianna!
Needius Worse Than Ever is proper poetry imho
And bear in mind my humble opinionated self reads a lot of it
It reminds me so much of U A Fanthorpe, who herself worked as a nurse on a psychiatric ward (I'll check that - I know she worked with mental patients)
You have a beautiful turn of phrase and some outstanding imagery
Just ETA because I've realised it might not be yours!
If it is, you amaze me.
You do anyway
No, i assure you, it IS my poem, but thanks for thinking that somebody real might've written it!! :)
PS I found the name Needius Grubb in the paper obits. turns out if you google his name you'll see he was up for the death penalty. Hey, with a name like Needius Grubb, how could you possibly go right?
I thought it was someone elses poem too. That is a compliment as it was very professionally written. But you knew that.
thanks, to both of you. :heartpump
Based on a poem by Hopkins--a list of things I "like"
I like the dark things, Halloween things,
Gleeful grins and voodoo queens;
Tarot decks and green moonbeams
I like the pansy, it's fearful face and back
Growling up at me from a full bushpack
Poison mushroom-caps, magick bric-a-brac!
I like the room beneath the Tree
Cauldrons and witches, three by three
I like the unseen, silly world
That just might bite a careless girl.
PS I found the name Needius Grubb in the paper obits. turns out if you google his name you'll see he was up for the death penalty. Hey, with a name like Needius Grubb, how could you possibly go right?
got some info from the preble county newspaper--appears this guy beat his wife to death and avoided the death sentence by pleading guilty, life without parole. He died, though, in prison as I saw his obit and got the name there. I wonder how he died? he was pretty young---early to mid forties.
Oh Brianna you do have a real talent
Please don't think this is lets-pat-the-bald-girl flannel
I love poetry - I really do adore it
and I don't lie
I can write verse quite happily - I have done so for years for people leaving work, birthdays, anniversaries etc
I can do doggerel with barely a wince
and occasionally I write a "polaroid" that captures a moment in very few words and is at least worth keeping (for me) to take me back there
but I can't write poetry
I'm not disciplined enough - that's why I like the spontaneous thread - any flaws can be shrugged off as just a stream of consciousness thing
But you can really write
I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I'm not the dullest either
Take this on board, mm'kay?
He died to give you a good name for your poem and please no sympathy for the devil.
@ SG...You are a great writer. Nimble.
paper cuts on your nuts
might require explanation
open sores on your whores
beg johnson lamination
These fuckers gotta buy
I need dough like anyone
These fuckers always lie
And act like I'm the one
Yeah we close at nine
This happens all the time
The finance guy won't mind
It happens all the time
Well let me tell you fuckers
The finance guy has kids
And needs to get some sleep
cuz he's got a fucking hour ride home and has to take out the trash tonight when he gets there, and then he's got to be back at 9 am to work another 14 hours with no break.
this may impact your interst rate.
'sall I'm sayin'
Gargoyl
We are catty-corner
me and he-
we sit, legs crossed-
our noses in our books,
his of stone, like himself,
A stiff and solemn evil elf;
a Scholar more than me.
He never leaves his book!
But I will, more than not,
put mine down to wife the house
and fix the supper for the mouse
who, along with he,
Keeps with me a company.
And Ode to my Favorite Restaurant (and it makes fun of Rilke's 'Childhood' as translated by M.D. Herter Norton)
O, filet mignon!
O, how you turn me on!
I go to the Pine Club with glee!
Knowing you'll be there for me!
O, filet mignon!
O, how you turn me on!
The hash browns make me sing!
O, another Singapore Sling!
Those sumptuous stewed tomahotes!
Like notes of pure legato!
O, filet mignon!
O, how you turn me on!
Do you know
What I know?
Could you show
If I show?
Could you do
If I did?
Would you find me
If I hid?
Do things matter at all?
Would you answer if I call?
Sometimes I wonder if you'd
Be there for me too
Okay, things have gotten entirely too cerebral in here. It's time for me to bring things back to silly with some toilet humor.
Ode to a Load
Pity the lowly dog turd,
all brown like a rotten log,
its fate to stink, and draw more flies,
and be eaten by another dog.
Reaching out
My window I try to grab hold of the wipers which
are going to and fro and making more of a mess doing their job than if I had not commanded them to do so.
I struggle a bit more, irritated that I can barely see what is looming in front of me
It could be a tractor-trailer, an ally if only I could be sure of his spot.
Of course, trailing the trailer led to more groanings from my once careful wipers.
I pulled off the road.
Once I deemed it clear enough, I slowly pulled out into traffic again.
Anticipation
The fluttery feeling of waiting
The mental lists, the planning
The should-I-get-those-earrings
The can-I-break-those shoes-in?
As I plan out what to wear
Will I feel when I am there
That the evening can compare
To the fun as I prepare?
I am not a poet. I have terrible grammer and I've never taken a poetry class so I have no technical ability to write. I just string along words sometimes to try to express what I am seeing or feeling at the time.
Last night there was this incredible twilight. So out comes this jumbled prose. Lyrics maybe. I havn't felt inspired for a long time. Don't laugh :)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A mist falls on an early spring twilight like diamonds sprayed on grey silk. The Natural and erethrial coalescing in gods petrie dish
Clouds like dripping watercolor stripe across the sky.
Dark midnight blue holding captive the lighter hue of the day gone by.
Smothered in it's sleepy grasp night time pulls the curtains down around the dark green pines.
This day is done. Nature is once again motionless and undisturbed. Glowing picture windows in the distance seem to punctuate this atmosphere of untroubled contemplation. All is good. Night has come.
IMHO, Art is in the eye of the beholder. Sky, your poem speaks to peoples hearts. I have no training either, but to me, your poetry is loftier than some of the so called "greats" of poetry. Don't apologize for sharing beauty.
IMHO, Art is in the eye of the beholder. Sky, your poem speaks to peoples hearts. I have no training either, but to me, your poetry is loftier than some of the so called "greats" of poetry. Don't apologize for sharing beauty.
Amen.
Nice images Sky - don't put yourself down.
There was nothing there that I couldn't visualise - poetry can just be about capturing a moment, a feeling, a mood. I call the polaroid poems myself - which isn't to knock them at all.
Of course, my "Ode to a Load" is classic poetry.
sky, that was supreme. They were lovely, perfect, liquid, living images. They go quite well with Orb's remix of Hybrid's song, Higher Than A Skyscraper, by the way. For I be that.
Overturning, waves within
Wrenching muscle, twisting skin
Wrap your nether round my heart
If it whines, don't let it in
As the night seeps through the door
Kitchen counter, bed and floor
Far too drunk to cuddle now
Don't you fret; I never snore
Atmosphammers crack my head
Morning breezes reek of dread
Silent, quick, and lithe I leave
Walking shoes are filled with lead
thanks again:D and I'll be looking for that remix.
Oh and I really enjoyed your poem. Great Feeling to it.
staying up again, way too late
with eyes that rest their lids upon my knees.
unrest curdles in my torso,
and stings my heart like angry killer bees
my feet they long to roam, my ass it likes to sit
so my mind will go and wander, until IT becomes unfit.
Run this treadmill, run run run
routine and money,
cooking and cleaning
obligation and sacrifice
and indulgence in dreaming.
(Long wet brain fart/ was thinking lyrics to Some Song)
Rise from refuse
Shake the sleep
Wipe the crust
From eyes set deep
It purrs beneath
My bony hands
My shattered teeth
Saliva glands
Host of hours
Westward bound
Lingers late
Yellow ground
It does not weep
For wasted time
Does not change
And never rhymes
Taste its breath
Through lips made thin
Touch its death
Translucent skin
Love its heat
Through quiet scars
Sleep as embers
Under stars
Stoke the glow
Electric sleep
Gather crust
As void lights creep
It grows again
Join the fray
Fly to waste
Another day
there's a weirdo cunt on this board
a weirdo cunt and a weirdo whore
a weirdo whore and a weirdo cock
when the dust has settled
the boots will knock
Somewhere,
along the way
I took my hand away from,
the long and snaking
safety rail,
I can't remember quite when.
I noticed briefly
,then forgot,
too busy running fult tilt,
down the steep
and studded hill,
past the house that Jack built.
When I recalled,
and looked around,
Saw nothing of my former ground,
The safety rail had
snaked away,
And left me with no way home.
Oh Dana, that so resonates!
It does tie in with something I was thinking of last week.
My attempt to capture the feeling. Influenced by losing Dylan:
The world is full and fertile.
Trees swell and burst into green fireworks of froth.
Shower and heat and heat and growth,
I can see the threshing world recreate.
And I mostly issue sweat.
Tears run from me polluting the rain.
I salt the earth for miles around,
Making barren all that touches me.
Nature has left me behind
Creating its own reward to those who will.
I will suffer through this burgeoning,
And love/ dread many more.
great reads Dana C and SG!
There is something familiar here, sipping
bourbon while almost alone in front
of a television gone unwatched, but listened
too for a reminder that I am still connected
somehow, but not completely.
A mental astronaut, outside the everyday, but still
recognized and thought about by people outside vision.
Where to go from here I do not know, but somehow
I am still drawn to imaginary fires and signals sent
from somewher in the past where I left
my youth and belief in something better.
im tired but i keep floating on cloud nine
hoping that tomorrow i straighten up like a line
live it up bein with the people i care for
ride the waves as life keeps showing me more and more
do it to it
keep it real
tryin to show the world how i truly feel
about school, work, friends and fam
puttin it all together, making it all cram
stayin true to who i am
puttin the world on my shoulders
my path i am the only holder
do it to it
to dream is to fly
gotta remember
in my end there is only i
and what i did and what i have left to do
be sure to stay true to me, and to you
Twirling, flying, floating high
Fire soaring towards the sky
Crackling, sizzling sparking logs
Dance around the fire bright
many hours into the night.
Nice imagery all three of you!
my betrothed
half disrobed
hood of my car
down the road
engines wide open
tingle my scrotum
subwoofers thump
roadkill hump
body tossed
into the dump
drowned in diesel
pound my weasel
raging necrophiliac-sturbation staging mental patient
What, nobody else ever writes Rob Zombie lyrics?
I should have said "flaming necrophiliasturbation-staging mental patient" ...
__________________
metallic soup
itallic poop
Italian stallion
flew the coop
bats in the belfry
Skeksies, Gelflings
excess jetset net wealth hairnet
Fred, Fred Grimes
gloating Nyad
May keep her yet,
Still feed her slow.
Said, Said Shine
It saw lump or two
All I can duel I've won
Hung many show
Hung many who show
Another birthday stumbles round.
Another year I didn't get rich,
Didn't fall in love.
Didn't change the world.
And the world is still turning,
And I've turned my life around.
Did the things I most feared.
Did change things for the better.
work to the sleep to the work to the sleep
food to the sheep to the sheep to the sheep
drink to the sleep to the sheep to the sleep
dance to the pants to the pants to the dance
when I'm yakkin'
and come off as attackin'
don't let your delicate sensibilities
be an intermediary between you and me
I'm sporting an outrageous sleep deficit
prerequisite for a raging lack of ettiquette
playing Devil's Advocate for the sake of staying awake at my desk
They were great! I especially liked yours, Sundae.
i have decided
(and now declared)
at the urging of clod
to start, for a while
(at least while i am over here,
for i am in the states, you see)
to try my very hardest to post
entirely in some sort of verse
free as it may be
i will try and see
(if i still give a fuck)
if i can make my point
in the form of a poem
(wish me luck!)
Rah! I like
And while you're at it - more photos please
apples and trunks,
basketball dunks,
center of the circle,
cores get crunk.
limits and limes,
not thought no time,
skewer the edge,
squeeze the rhyme.
Armor and sword lyrics by Rush
Album: Snakes & arrows
the snakes and arrows a child is heir to
are enough to leave a thousand cuts
we build our defenses, a place of safety
and leave the darker places unexplored
sometimes the fortress is too strong
or the love is too weak
what should have been our armor
becomes a sharp and angry sword
our better natures seek elevation
a refuge for the coming night
no one gets to their heaven without a fight
we hold beliefs as a consolation
a way to take us out of ourselves
meditation or medication
a comfort ,or a promised reward
sometimes the spirit is too strong
or the flesh is too weak
sometimes the need is just too great
for the solace we seek
the suit of shining armor
becomes a keen and bloody sword
a refuge for the coming night
a future of eternal light
no one gets to their heaven without a fight
confused alarms of struggle and flight
blood is drained of color
by the flashes of artillery light
no one gets to their heaven without a fight
the battle flags are flown
at the feet of a god unknown
no one gets to their heaven without a fight
sometimes the damage is too great
or the will is too weak
what should have been our armor
becomes a sharp and burning sword
those lyrics should be on the lyric thread!
oh lol
And so the little bird sang
And the snail he hummed
Until the bird got hungry
The snail's day was done
Escargot yum yum yum
do you ever feel proggy
at this time of night
and you know it's not right
but you just can't fight?
wanna strike up the pipe
and light up the sky
and fiddle a figure
to make Frank cry?
My chicken's gone broody
Which means she's quite moody
Sitting on unhatchable eggs.
We don't have a rooster
But nothing will boost her
From the brown ovals beneath her legs.
She sits in the coop
Takes quick breaks to poop
And get a quick bite to eat.
At each morning's daylight
And sometimes at night
We grab eggs from under her seat.
I don't quite understand
This world.
It's so complicated. So improbable.
And we're so basic.
You wouldn't believe it if it was made up.
Too many holes in the plot for the monsters to crawl through.
There's light, here and there.
We try to grow towards it.
But mostly we're blind.
Looking for warmth, looking to be clean.
And there at the end are the ovens, the showers.
Wow. Dark.
Brilliant, but dark.
The old bastard fell
To the bottom of the well
His soul he had to sell
Just to get a short spell
Of rest
Tadaaaa!
Youse guys could be rich.
Swirling,
Twirling,
Furling,
Tails a-whirling.
Squirreling.
[COLOR="Silver"]Two squirrels were chasing each other around my tree.[/COLOR]
You have certainly captured the essence of what it is to be a Squirrel.
Does it produce endorphins
To make a post orphan?
Does it make one inflate
To relegate
A former post
To just a ghost?
Do you seem a sage
When deferring a post to a back page?
Is it an orphan endorfin?
Or is it a snark shark?
:D
heheheheh that was awesome
:) I like what you did there. Too funny.
Thanks guys!
Spinning out time
As if there is enough of it to go round.
Wasting grey matter
As if it could grow back.
Waiting for the final thud
Of the heart
That has been sorely tried.
Waiting for the final thud
Cancerous untruths
Poison droplet in the well
Lie metastasis
All these bitter years
have been a respite
from the simple minded
times of my youth
knowledge is power
so they say
so then
I stand
a bitter god
amongst men
I’m here, I never knew how long
The road would be, how sweet
And sour, how terrible the times
Would end, how sere the heat
The times are hard, the times are sweet,
The times are rotting meat
There is no way to tell
When focus shifts to soft delete
So much of life
Should stay inside
A private file, complete
So many things too painful to
Allow to breathe, too fleet
To render judgment would be
Pain that cannot bear its heat
The road goes on, I follow
Face averted, no relief.
The subway stinks its endless muck
The station smells like sweat
The passing of humanity
Does not provide us yet
The wisdom we remain to seek
The endless pain a threat
The road goes on, we follow
Faces downcast, still bereft.
God, Ortho, that's brilliant.
It should be entitled 'With apologies to Leonard Cohen'.
Seems I only write when I've had a few glasses of wine. The rest of the time, I'm too depressed.
I'll Drop In Sometime
You won't see me.
I hang on my barbed wire web
As you lie in bed, again.
But I'll fall like a bloated spider
And bite your poisoned tongue
Until it turns to ashes in your mouth.
You won't pour your voice like olive oil into another ear,
Dislodging things people don't know they're giving you,
Feeding on them until you become their habit.
All these bitter years
have been a respite
from the simple minded
times of my youth
knowledge is power
so they say
so then
I stand
a bitter god
amongst men
I like this one.
Very good.
Nature fashioned this dome.
This great hall of of bone.
To keep something silly and soft
Mighty and aloft
So safe.
But if inside there's disease.
Mental maggots and fleas,
Then all nature's devising
Just needs excising
Such waste.
[COLOR="White"](and such terrible poetry proves my point!)[/COLOR]