Stephen Robins
on AIDS in a Doug by horus8
20 Sep 2004, 2:43 AM
There once was some AIDS in a Jug,
Which had held a bottle of Krug,
It transpired the drink,
Was poured down the sink,
To be replaced by the semen of your friend, Doug.
Shuper
Thank you.
Much work it needs, but you give hope. :)
I REALLY LIKES THIS 1 EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS HEARTFELT AND SOULFILLED
I LIKE THE FLOW BUT I DONT NO WHAT U MEAN?
I REALLY ENJOID READING THIS PEICE ITS VERY DARK MYSTERIOUS
I really like that one. Can't explain why....just do :)
oy. ready? set? crit:
She washed over me like water,
>>kâwashed over me doesnât need to be qualified with âlike waterââ>>economize your words for greater effect.
and I knew love
like love had never known;
>>abstract
she wriggled into every crevice, licked
me clean, then left--
>>okay, now weâre getting somewhere. Was it a salty tongue, like
>>sharkskin, so smooth on the approach yet tearing and scraping
>>like sandpaper as it pulled away?
but she came back, caressed me down, deeper still.
>>and what did that feel like?
She went and came like some sick little game
>>yep. Yep. Very clear to me.
and I was stone, alone and uncertain;
>> I have a hard time with stones being uncertain. They donât roll.
>>They know where theyâll wake up tomorrow. They know what they are
>>going to wear tonight. And they definitely know if they look fat
>>in that.
her visitations slowly eroded my hesitation
and I became used to her comings and goings.
>>tides? To repeat the water/comparison to elementals metaphor?
We settled into a long routine, then: love when she was there
>>delete âthenâ
and happy rememberings on her trips away.
>>both of you settled into this
>both of you with the happy rememberings?
Slowly, though, she found my deep imperfections
and seeping into them she'd leave a piece of herself behind
to whip cold and hot.
>>finding and seeping cold maybe be better verbs? More insidious?
She'd tell herself tales
when she returned
and slowly I cracked, I crumbled,
>>what sort of tales? About what? Why? And how did it come
>>about that you heard them?
and she'd whisk those pieces away, rounding them to pebbles, then sand
while I remained
less
and less.
>>again, delete âthenâ
The strength of her love never waned
and in time it became too much
for what was left of me,
one raw stone,
and I let go.
>>you never showed us that she loved you, only that she tortures you
I entered her to and fro,
another pawn of her whimsy
to slowly be rounded to nothing
through pleasure.
>>apart from âpawnâ being overused, the rounding to nothing slowly through pleasure is quite good.
This is without a doubt the most blatant case of idiotic self-voting I have yet seen. As a poem, this fails for a simple reason: if you start off with a rhyming quatrain, you should not round it off with three unrhyming verses even more lacking in rhythmic distinction than the first four.
Is this Bachus?Sounds like him.
Listen kolostomybag, your incredibly amusing habbit of spewing mindless, one line comments all over this cad's work is beginning to lose steam. I suggest you stop clogging up the "recent comments" page before you burst in a giant shower of inept comebacks.
Your so cool jeromeee!
Pure - sheer and absolute shit!
line upon line of shit.
You are as convicted as a very bad poet - blown prose!
Bad writing,indeed!
Dumb!
Just silly.
0 at the least!
shit