Bobjim
on One Day I Will be Made of Electric Swords that Will Explode by T. Jonathron Remp
8 Nov 2004, 7:26 AM
Most excellent. Well deserving of a 10.
Wonderful write.
I wrote this poem when I was like 15 I think! If you couldn't tell it's a poem about my dad. I hope you like it!
dude, i wish these went to 11!
Quite planar if I do say so myself.
Adding the same thing to both sides of "tangled"
like this has made me lean out to my shelf
with parallel hands and take my textbook, spangled
with blots and gum, has made me start the fire
in my hearth early this year. You have made
me take the deadened textbook to its pyre
on logs and mourn it with the spark and spade.
Thank God! I cremated my mathbook after
I'd read this poem, though this poem meant
as much as what it made me burn. The scent
of smoke perfumes the rafters. I'm all laughter:
A math-made poem is as out of whack
as fortune-telling by the zodiac.
though the last stanza or so was really really good and so was the beginning. But a lot of it was needlessly complex. Since I'm a dyslexic, (and no, you didn't "offend" me) this poem I guess missed its point. Though I must say that if it's a dyslexic joke, it's quite funny.
That was a mouthful of muscle.
Nice poem! ;)
kick ass!
A passage worth perusing again. I enjoyed this.
At the mention of concrete, my perception changed right away. At first I imagined this in the mountains or something. Well written and profound. It has an interpretation all it's own for me.
Been there!
ouch
Are you getting any at the moment Dovina?
ouch! that one hurts...
WOW! guess I'm stuck here for a while. Well Done.
Probably more worried about the transition.
Made me chuckle, actually.
Stephen Robins
on Beard my Homemade Negro Jesus (Improved! With AIDS!) by Everyone
8 Nov 2004, 2:24 AM
My negro made his escape,
With a beard made of a Crepe,
He didn't get far,
For a distinguishing scar,
I declared the season's most whimsical jape!
My Jesus was bearded in milk,
To distinguish him from his ilk,
But it turned to cheese,
As he died of disease,
But the stilton tasted like silk.
I bearded my Jesus with cricket,
His face was a splendid wicket,
A portable ground,
With Tests' to astound,
It soon cost a guinea a ticket!
I bearded my Jesus with a brogue,
To ensure he was en Vogue,
The ladies fainted,
To see footwear tainted,
By my negro Jesus rogue!
I can't wait for the Autumn 2002!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Have you ever watched andrea in the lockeroom and marvelled at what it must be like to have a pair of breasts?