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Poetry thread


Fenghuang

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That's a rare phenomenon. What am I missing? Lyrics? To what was that poem so similar? Mood? *

 

 

Mother Mary sang her song like all mothers do

And she was happy doing it

Until she was no more

And Father came to Mother Mary

Dressed in White

All white

And he said I don't know

God, Jesus, I don't know

That's what he said

I don't know

I think Father was a little bruised

As he kept missing the hole

The spot where all them bastards came

You could see him searching

And I dunno what came over me

But I took this frying pan, eggs still cooking,

I too this frying pan and I hit him over the head,

Smiling.

 

* Uh. Does this sound a little too pushy? Sorry for that. Didn't mean to. Just curious.

Edited by Baley
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My parrot wrote this poem

 

 

A series of confused rhymes

Hand around the twinkly pear, the grizzly bear and prepare.

Theres somekind of ratbastard mutant scum in this diary of rum.

Dogs ate the pope, and his cohorts aswell,

he bid his adieu and gave his farewell.

Another of them, after he was fed, he ended up dead.

Chicken and watermelon and fresh baked bread,

and they brought out the hatchet and cut off his head.

DISCLAIMER: Do not take what I write seriously unless it is clearly and in no uncertain terms, declared by me to be meant in a serious and non-humoristic manner. If there is no clear indication, asume the post is written in jest. This notification is meant very seriously and its purpouse is to avoid misunderstandings and the consequences thereof. Furthermore; I can not be held accountable for anything I write on these forums since the idea of taking serious responsability for my unserious actions, is an oxymoron in itself.

 

Important: as the following sentence contains many naughty words I warn you not to read it under any circumstances; botty, knickers, wee, erogenous zone, psychiatrist, clitoris, stockings, bosom, poetry reading, dentist, fellatio and the department of agriculture.

 

"I suppose outright stupidity and complete lack of taste could also be considered points of view. "

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how about starting one huge super poem? where each "player" adds three or four lines .. then we allow the poem to evovle from there!

needless to say you would have to at least keep in some kind of contact with the previous lines..

 

for instance I could start with -

 

Mary had a little lamb

which drowned in seas of blood

so Mary cried for nights on end

for a second flood

Fortune favors the bald.

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Little Girls named Mary don't really matter in the great scheme of things

So she decided on buying cheap second hand implants

Produced in Brazil by starving 8 year olds

For 5 bucks a week.

 

 

 

 

As for the thread,

 

The great beat

Is the great passion

There's this passion

For writing, know what I mean?

I dunno

Don't ask stupid questions

You do that a lot, dream

Yeah, you've got weird dreams

And I'm not even my own narrator these days

Beatboxing fantasy is the mind's third eye

This poem is basically meaningless

Because I like it that way

I could quote myself ad nauseam

Smiling

Because self love is the way to heaven

Smiling

Paved with good intentions

Smiling

And things that come into my mind

Are worthless

Not even worthy of the paper

They occupy

Yet I love them as I love myself

And am forced to write this pointless dreg

For heaven's close to my heart.

One wasted minute

Smiling.

 

 

Five minutes to write a decent poem

That's how long it usually takes

Thing is I don't have 5 minutes

Which forces me to improvise

And tell the story of a boy that searched for meaning

In a world void of love

And found it at the bottom of an absinthe bottle

Shame is absinthe's a mangy drink

For mangy goths.

Edited by Baley
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Mary had a little lamb

which drowned in seas of blood

so Mary cried for nights on end

for a second flood

Little Girls named Mary don't really matter in the great scheme of things

So she decided on buying cheap second hand implants

Produced in Brazil by starving 8 year olds

For 5 bucks a week.

 

Mary broke the heavens once by sneezing too loudly,

Tom got his ribs broken by walking too proudly

They're both okay now, lift their feet high at the promenade

Tom's actually gay, but the two make a fine masquerade

 

 

( poetry sucks )

Edited by Kaftan Barlast

DISCLAIMER: Do not take what I write seriously unless it is clearly and in no uncertain terms, declared by me to be meant in a serious and non-humoristic manner. If there is no clear indication, asume the post is written in jest. This notification is meant very seriously and its purpouse is to avoid misunderstandings and the consequences thereof. Furthermore; I can not be held accountable for anything I write on these forums since the idea of taking serious responsability for my unserious actions, is an oxymoron in itself.

 

Important: as the following sentence contains many naughty words I warn you not to read it under any circumstances; botty, knickers, wee, erogenous zone, psychiatrist, clitoris, stockings, bosom, poetry reading, dentist, fellatio and the department of agriculture.

 

"I suppose outright stupidity and complete lack of taste could also be considered points of view. "

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Well, Tom was a decent chap deep down

Of course, you wouldn't have guessed it at first

He had a tendency to get drunk and shout obscenities

Mouth wide open, dressed in drag.

 

but such it is, when feelings are supressed

and gayish tendencies make you depressed

you end up drinking if you are a simple "sheep"

and ruin thus come, 'cause this is not cheap!

 

:)

Fortune favors the bald.

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"My Gentle Oak"

 

I love to sit and ponder

Near my firm yet gentle Oak

I like to watch and wonder

By my tall and gentle Oak

To count the birds in number

Neath my kind and gentle Oak

To eat my lunch in company

With my good friend, Gentle Oak.

"The dimmest light can shatter the darkest night, and the light I carry is in no way dim."

benjamin1kn.jpg

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but such it is, when feelings are supressed

and gayish tendencies make you depressed

you end up drinking if you are a simple "sheep"

and ruin thus come, 'cause this is not cheap!

 

"I've lost my beat" I say to Tom as he enters the room

"I've lost it, Tom!" I yell, though he's only 5 meters away

He doesn't squirm, nor does he panic, he just comes closer

And hugs me, brotherly, I think. A wholesome day in may.

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  • 4 weeks later...

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