on Tribeca by Dovina
8 Apr 2007, 6:08 AM
Poetry isn't just an excuse for you to tell the world about your disgusting and warped sex life. There's a name for that kind of thing, and it isn't Art. It's Smut.
on OneLongDay by Iain
8 Apr 2007, 6:03 AM
I suppose you think you're pretty big and clever for spelling your name the scotch way... well I've got news for you: nobody cares. This is a POETRY site for RANKING POEMS. Whether or not you put extra 'i's in your name is neither here nor there.
replying on The Small Ones by Dovina
22 Mar 2007, 5:34 PM
Certain freedoms you may reserve for yourself, but not the freedom to write about barnacles without a barnacle licence.
replying on This life is sheer nonsense by Prince of Void
22 Mar 2007, 5:03 PM
He cannot complain, for he has chosen THE WAY OF THE CRIPPLE. Many a man may be UNBELIEVABLY APPALLING, and yet be able to hide at will behind a wheelchair of innocence. God is Love. God is Kind. God is Just. Those that deserve CRIPPLEDOM, live in CRIPPLEDOM. Those that deserve better, shall be granted handsome, glistening legs, and sleek buttocks, and they shall prance about the countryside in a state of unbridled glee. I was just such a person... before The Accident.
replying on A Single Strand of Golden Yellow by Aetius
22 Mar 2007, 11:15 AM
But it is Ephialtes of Trachis who tends The Loom Of Lost Souls... as punishment for his treachery. Ephialtes of Athens is neither here nor there.
replying on A Single Strand of Golden Yellow by Aetius
20 Mar 2007, 9:05 PM
It seems we have a Weaver in our midst. Quick! Ephialtes! Sound the Nudity Alarum and make ready the Loom. It is only a matter of time now...
replying on Here are the wipes by -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.
16 Mar 2007, 9:48 AM
"pederastic shame"... the greatest of all shames, bar one: the shame of being an ethnic.
Incidentally, the above is a fine example of my favourite rhyme scheme:
A A A A ... until you run out of things that rhyme with A
B B B B ... until you run out of things that rhyme with B
C C C C ... and so on
Incidentally, the above is a fine example of my favourite rhyme scheme:
A A A A ... until you run out of things that rhyme with A
B B B B ... until you run out of things that rhyme with B
C C C C ... and so on
replying on Settling In by jessicazee
14 Mar 2007, 4:15 PM
A highly elderly arse
replying on A Lament For Alice by hungry_shepherd
14 Mar 2007, 4:14 PM
A disgustingly poorly-tested moustache sausage.
replying on Hallelujah by hungry_shepherd
14 Mar 2007, 4:08 PM
A foetus-mounted lacquered tramp beard supplied with a sausage extractor.
How dare you extol the virtues of a lesser glove without paying homage to its superior:
http://poemranker.com/poem-details.jsp?i
Incidentally, a boy in my class at primary school enjoyed scratching the other boys and making them cry. As both punishment and preventative measure, he was forced to wear mittens.
http://poemranker.com/poem-details.jsp?i
Incidentally, a boy in my class at primary school enjoyed scratching the other boys and making them cry. As both punishment and preventative measure, he was forced to wear mittens.
replying on Abused Light by Greeny
13 Mar 2007, 6:30 PM
By apostrophe you mean acute accent. By colon or dash you mean semicolon. And it's obvious why light is being abused. God did not intend such unnatural bursts of colour to stain the night sky. He made the night black, not electric blue, or luminous green. Only once has He ever allowed fireworks, and that was immediately after the Resurrection, where they were accompanied by a laser light show and foam party, all choreographed to Simply The Best by Tina Turner.
on Pedaling West by Dovina
13 Mar 2007, 6:17 PM
Poetry is no excuse for pedaling like a muppet. No wonder people point and stare. The first two lines suggest it took you some time to master the bicycle. That is a sign from God that you were not intended for outdoor pursuits, but should remain indoors where others cannot see you. To persist in activities for which you possess no talent is blasphemous, and is the second reason why feminism is a sin. The first is Jane Fonda.
on Settling In by jessicazee
10 Mar 2007, 11:17 AM
An unspeakably disappointing spoon coated in vicar discharge.
on A Lament For Alice by hungry_shepherd
10 Mar 2007, 11:12 AM
An extremely Dutch blouse egg.
on Hallelujah by hungry_shepherd
10 Mar 2007, 11:11 AM
An emergency spaz that doubles as a handyman's tortoise auditorium.
on Polite refusal by Stephen Robins
19 Feb 2007, 5:48 PM
My suit is fitted with a drawstring so I can hoist the vent canopy any time I please; as a single venter you have merely to park your hands in your pockets and watch in horror as the tails part like soiled drapes.