Comparable in horrifying familiarity to the sensation of being raped by an out-of-control hobo in your own back garden.

-7- For shock

with a score that high, i was a little more than skeptical, but this is great. It's like an epic and exaclty what poetry should be. It reminds me of famous poems that people spend their lives examining to find the meaning that was present all along. It's a 10, u deserve it :)

The vicars pictured below would disapprove most strongly of the sort of conduct you describe: http://tinyurl.com/4d6ab http://tinyurl.com/7ynve http://tinyurl.com/3pm9h

Quendocratic mush

For some reason I can't bring myself to think the last stanza fits. Though I love the 'Kissed her lips on the ashes of blossom'. For some reason it doesn't seem to work rhythmically. Also, while the whole wheel of time moving around, as was done before so shall be done again, etc theme works (i.e. you kissing your lover where your parents kissed etc.), it seems a touch clichéd. It makes me think too much of 'Songs my Mother Taught Me' in that respect. There's also the fact that I sort of would have liked it if you'd found a way of ending it without bringing yourself into play. 8 for now because I'm a miserable shite and the score's high enough as it is already.

if one door no close another one no go open. abeg mek you tek courage , and walk on.

black Africa remains the darkest of heart, no thanks to the joint conspiracy of hard shoe leather of "whiteness" imperialism and the black mongols devouring and sending the youngs to live no other lives than the gun

how can fall not always come the path of Eve if so easy to words she is moved, to believe oh she believes and to fall she goes

Fiss plaps

Appallingly poignant nonsense

I can't be bothered to read this poem but I'm going to vote anyway

if nuts gets opened, the screw-driving is well done. only that, after the "dance" .... whose's flesh wears the "plasters" and who pays the bill for the pains.

any "green" ripe a pluck,like the above consumated in flesh is worth the "ticklishing" in the mouth.

very good -9-

i love lines 12 and 13, thats great. gave ya an 8 cause the end is kinda out of place

catchy

The only ironically named beige baby I know is Koko P. Maroon. And he's dead from AIDS.

Yawn.

That was the best poem I read today and forever. You got so much talent.