nentwined
on The huntsman's shame by Stephen Robins
8 Nov 2004, 1:10 PM
congratulations. first 0 I've read in some time. :)
Clearly a miracle.
Thank you so much for the help.
New last line: âRaise old memories and young hopes, holding a clue to the hidden flaw and natureâs answer in codes like 07, 09, 16, 31, 41 46.â
I've traded my thesaurus for fifty pounds of fortune cookies. Today's fortune about your poem says (pardon me as I read with my mouth full), "Always have old memories and young hopes." BTW- your lucky lotto numbers are 07, 09, 16, 31, 41 and 46. Here, I'll open one for myself. It says, "Nature always sides with the hidden flaw." This is better than the magic 8 ball! Doncha think?
And with this statement, England declared war on Los Angeles today, asserting itself as the most lewd.
The first verse is great, except for heavenly mirth. It's all pretty good.
Perhaps "blip" is too strong. If I had a Thesaurus, I might look for a similar, but less hopeful word. I understand youâve developed a knack for this and might be able to help.
No, not at the moment, but thank you for asking.
Aren't we kicking around the same idea?
It's so nice to be loved for my nature, and it happens so very often here on Poemranker that I tend to become inconsiderate. But please Mr. Z, you're a married man.
Good but could be great if it weren't so hopeful.
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.
Are you getting any at the moment Dovina?
Maybe. But I can't get past the idea that God would just say to you, "I'm perfect. Surely I know what's the best way to respond to prayers. And anyway, there's tons of prayers I don't answer and tons of great things I do for people who don't pray. It probably seems kind of higgledypiggledy to anyone who isn't perfect."
How do you argue with that? Anyone?
I love people who say things are in their own or other people's natures. I could kiss you now.
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!
That was a mouthful of muscle.