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Blind Walk Into Poem Ranker (Free verse) by DreamerSupreme

Off I went, hell bent, -And I thought heaven sent- Into this strange domain. To discover what I might gain From continuing this once failed adventure. First I met a gnome, Who, with a stick slapped me 'Cross the dome: Telling me that I was silly For holding a copyright banner He reminded me of yoda, Holding pepsi cola. Consequently I met a dictionary fairy. With black tipped wings. That sings, Annoyingly, into my ear. Speaking words that I thought Were meant to strike fear Into my heart. Subsequently I decided to fart In his face. But, I lost the race. For like the gnome said, I'd be bored back to bed. From the endless battles. Ended with the sound Of senile cackles. Leaving me in shackles Of irritation. Boasting my songs childishly, I wandered blindly. Stepping on the can of soda That belonged to yoda. Damned gnome got pissed And became some fucking ninja. He had mind controll Over my horse. So as predicted, I did fall afflicted From pain sent by yodas lightsaber. Awakening drunk I realized: That indeed I was a fool. So I started attacking, But skill was yet lacking. Left smacking my lips, Not liking the foul taste Of the situation. I felt like a snake. Now I swim in a lake Called joy luck. He wrote hallmark poetry For a buck fifty. Poems very thrifty and clever, Shit that was simple yet lasted forever In my mind. Pictures of words Showing me standing on yodas dick. Making me feel more like a prick: Silly redneck lost In england, beaten with A rubberband, put around my head. Cutting off circulation, And passing out. Back to bed Just like the gnome said Would happen, if I didn't think Before yappin.

horus8 28-Jun-03/8:59 AM
"Speaking words that I thought
Was meant to strike fear" were not was.

Control one l.

Yeah, Joy luck is Settle, the boy genius. He's way beyond Mensa. He's a Risdi brat, Ivy league tit, and skilled in twilightzone poetry. He's The only other sic lunatic on the site besides me and da, and equally as good. There's also Christof, Poet and knowit, and a few others that are poets beyond the norm, so don't go spouting in a fountain lest you be wet and caught off guard. This poetry of yours is in desperate need of style, you need to develop your own poetic gimmick, something different about your poetry. The wording the shape the texture, but stop writing about that silly demon, heaven and hell crap, and pain and blood and all that trite shit. It's pointless because no one will bother with it, because, if they wanted fantasy they would read a real fantasy author that does it right, not a kid swinging at the fences.




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