Poem

Hate came like rain,
Just me and Wayne,
I had one choice left,
In walked Jeff,
I felt tree’s unrooted,
Snow boil, all because the Lady love’s milk tray!

Could anybody help me out, I am running out of creative JUICE!

[Lupin]

MTUME - Juicy Fruit

[MrL_JaKiri]

I prefer

I wandered lonely on a cloud.
There a moose called Morris once was, and a cat called Doris once was,
Bring out the red and yield not to the glow; THAT Solomon?s winter.
I divulge the Chemical Warheads of thee, my soul.
The End. I slit my waistbands.
But never mind a dog, lest a bicycle be of less permeation,
For it was mostly moist from front to back (and hence again).
Consider The reversal: plunging @ you into his/her/my ?lavender? depths?
You are Death?s Auditors, that both divide
The complete NP problem in the taste of curried structure.
The wet-leaf aroma breathing sorrow?s miasma;
It?s all a lie of course; I want a Holophrase.

I like using words,
That rhyme with each other,
I like catching birds,
And feeding them each other,
I like eating turds,
And spitting at people,
I like puppy dogs tails,
As much as the next man,
But if I am honest you can shove it,
Because I am part of something, I am a PLANETARIONER!

[Dead_Meat]

Posts came like dust
Creeping like moths
Smothering in their greed
Alive and well
Banality made pixel
God what a load of old crap
Poetry is easy
Write what you like
Make sentence short
Leave reader hanging
Wear dark make-up
Create shitty website
Be a goth

Originally Posted by MrL_JaKiri

I prefer

I wandered lonely on a cloud.
There a moose called Morris once was, and a cat called Doris once was,
Bring out the red and yield not to the glow; THAT Solomon?s winter.
I divulge the Chemical Warheads of thee, my soul.
The End. I slit my waistbands.
But never mind a dog, lest a bicycle be of less permeation,
For it was mostly moist from front to back (and hence again).
Consider The reversal: plunging @ you into his/her/my ?lavender? depths?
You are Death?s Auditors, that both divide
The complete NP problem in the taste of curried structure.
The wet-leaf aroma breathing sorrow?s miasma;
It?s all a lie of course; I want a Holophrase.

I am not realy keen on poetry, but I seem to have a skill for it.

Originally Posted by Dead_Meat

Posts came like dust
Creeping like moths
Smothering in their greed
Alive and well
Banality made pixel
God what a load of old crap
Poetry is easy
Write what you like
Make sentence short
Leave reader hanging
Wear dark make-up
Create shitty website
Be a goth

I feel like I just got a facial from you.



Too much juice!

[MrL_JaKiri]

The poem in question was part of the Bad Poetry Experiment

Originally Posted by MrL_JaKiri

The poem in question was part of the Bad Poetry Experiment

LOL, now outta my thread, this is a quite place.

[KoeN]

tonight i'll make a poem.

Originally Posted by KoeN

tonight i'll make a poem.

very nice, quite mysterious that one. TONIGHT AND TONIGHT AND TONIGHT.

Class

[JonnyBGood]

I CAUGHT this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, -- the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

Originally Posted by JonnyBGood

I CAUGHT this morning morning's minion, king-
dom of daylight's dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate's heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird, -- the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!
Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

I don't realy like poetry.

[MrL_JaKiri]

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover !
A savage place ! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover !
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced :
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail :
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean :
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war !

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves ;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice !
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw :
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,

That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome ! those caves of ice !
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware ! Beware !
His flashing eyes, his floating hair !
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

[JonnyBGood]

Originally Posted by Ivana

I don't realy like poetry.

That's like saying you don't like films, or books, or food or games. It's a rather broad area to just dislike without any stated reasons.

[MrL_JaKiri]

Originally Posted by JonnyBGood

That's like saying you don't like films, or books, or food or games. It's a rather broad area to just dislike without any stated reasons.

TO THE NODMOBILE

reading fiction bores me. I like lusty stories of lesbo sex and FFM orgys.

[JonnyBGood]

Originally Posted by Ivana

reading fiction bores me. I like lusty stories of lesbo sex and FFM orgys.

ERROR. CONTRADICTION IN TERMS.

not when they are from the trusted pages of hustler.

[JonnyBGood]

Originally Posted by Ivana

not when they are from the trusted pages of hustler.

Cursed eyes rolling into the back of my head :(

It will make you blind.

[KoeN]

i found report of a hockeygame in the clubmagazine of our hockeyclub. it's made by some 6 year old boy after his match:

It was saturday it was cold.
It was time for Twente vs Lochem.
Unfortunately Rick wasn't there.
We started well but it became worse.
In the first half Geert was goalie it was going pretty well.
Untill it was 0-4 ohoh i thought.
Time for the second half we changed goalies.
And Kaj was goalie we started and before you knew it goal.
Unfortunately we lost anyway.

Regards Kaj.

pld that guy

[MrL_JaKiri]

Mart Poom is great.

[ChubbyChecker]

I've studied more poetry than I'd like to (back in my A Level English Lit days) and I've come to the conclusion that if you have something poetic to say you should say it in a song. If you can't say it in a song then it's not worth hearing.

[MrL_JaKiri]

Originally Posted by ChubbyChecker

I've studied more poetry than I'd like to (back in my A Level English Lit days) and I've come to the conclusion that if you have something poetic to say you should say it in a song. If you can't say it in a song then it's not worth hearing.

Not a fan of Paradise Lost then?

[KraKto$is8]

mmm, Kubla Khan.

*waits for someone to post The Waste Land or Dante's Inferno*







Bah, I'll do part of the latter


We had already left him. I walked the ice
And saw two soldered in a frozen hole
On top of each other, one's skull capping the other's,
Gnawing at him where the neck and head
Are grafted to the sweet fruit of the brain,
Like a famine victim at a loaf of bread.

[Knight Theamion]

If for all we know,
it would end now,
and all we had left,
was just a written feeling,
it would read,
a simple need,
it would read,
want

i so rock