| Re: Icarus Down by horus8 |
13-Mar-03/12:36 PM |
no. you miss, here. 'my time is coming' is a decade (at least) too aged for I.
so I flew from you
and became what i hated:
|
|
|
 |
| Re: Icarus up by horus8 |
13-Mar-03/1:51 PM |
|
hahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
|
|
|
|
| Re: Orders to My Zombie Legions by razorgrin |
13-Mar-03/2:05 PM |
|
ARE YOU WEARING THE HORN-ED HAT, VALKYRIE????
|
|
|
|
| Re: Strung by bunniesnangels |
13-Mar-03/2:18 PM |
this cries to me for more of a beat:
Women are pearls that you string,
Slid one to another with a satisfying "plink."
Each purchased alone, momentarily shone
-
and so on.
somehow it makes it more vindictive for me that way. like you are ramming the words home, with each hard beat.
|
|
|
|
| Re: Maud, After the Death of her Daughter Lynn by middenHeap |
13-Mar-03/7:46 PM |
doing his master's bidding,
middenHeap's into the fray.
oy vey!
I suppose -that- no one really could
--will help the meter
When she over her cradle cooed
--i know what you mean, but it reads awkwardly
nice effort. excellent topic for a V. the grief-struck often do repeat and repeat, to force themselves to accept. very nice tie-in, there.
|
|
|
|
| regarding some deleted poem... |
14-Mar-03/7:35 AM |
|
if you bought him a pint, he'd be silent for an afternoon; if you bought him a gallon, he'd die of alcohol poisoning and you'd never have to hear him play again!
|
|
|
|
| regarding some deleted poem... |
14-Mar-03/7:36 AM |
|
i can see that you have needs. there are medical professionals available to aid you in your vision-quest, at relatively reasonable rates, considering what they have to deal with on a daily basis.
|
|
|
|
| regarding some deleted poem... |
15-Mar-03/11:38 PM |
|
i am certain that little angel maria will shed tears of joy, as have i! when she sees this!!!
|
|
|
|
| regarding some deleted poem... |
15-Mar-03/11:40 PM |
|
dude, lay off the beatles. it's not working for you. mr. toad thanks you for the attentions, but wished you could have come up with something a little more original for him. forum. fore arm.e
|
|
|
|
| Re: Triptych: Rural by lastobelus |
16-Mar-03/5:15 PM |
excellent ending line in 1. much more satisfying.
2 works better without the punctuation. good call.
3 has amused me.
|
|
|
|
| Re: Orders to My Zombie Legions by razorgrin |
17-Mar-03/11:37 AM |
|
|
|
| Re: Heirlooms by Bachus |
17-Mar-03/12:05 PM |
dammit. i was looking for 'cocks' to rhyme with 'clocks.'
and you get all serious on me.
|
|
|
|
| Re: While flipping over stones by <{Baba^Yaga}> |
17-Mar-03/12:13 PM |
|
dammit! again, you miss the chance for the rhyme!!!!!
|
|
|
|
| Re: While flipping over stones by <{Baba^Yaga}> |
17-Mar-03/1:02 PM |
hmm. not the cock i have been thinking on, but i can see how it works better for the poem that way.
:|
|
|
|
|
| Re: Tell me I suck by Blindproject217 |
18-Mar-03/7:33 AM |
when i saw the title, i wanted to SOOOO BADLY!!! but i just can't now.
still, there are gaping holes in this. sqeeze it alittle more--<drip, drip, drip> and see what there is to be seen when you unravel it a little more! bravo/a!
|
|
|
|
| Re: Third Period English by Sawa |
18-Mar-03/7:34 AM |
|
without a second thought, that's how.
|
|
|
|
| Re: The death of Bachus by <{Baba^Yaga}> |
18-Mar-03/7:34 AM |
|
dammit! why am i always the last to know!!!
|
|
|
|
| Re: footprint of the american chicken by bondjedi |
20-Mar-03/6:51 AM |
now that ruins my fun!!!
get out of my sandbox!!!
you have one minute to get out, or i'll, or i'll...
i'll...
all right, you have one MORE minute, but then, i'm going to get really, really mad!
|
|
|
|
| regarding some deleted poem... |
20-Mar-03/6:56 AM |
|
why do you always have to fart when i finger you? goddamn it! if i didn't love doing it so damn much...
|
|
|
|
| regarding some deleted poem... |
20-Mar-03/7:15 AM |
the cockatrice who didn't care for artichokes
i buried me eggs in the darkling sand
i covered them well and fine
i built a small fire to keep them warm
at the edge of the lapping brine.
i wandered on over to the local well
i had me a dram or two
i stumbled back out to me nest on the beach
and who should i find, but you.
i startled, i stumbled, i fumbled, i fell
i looked into your eyes
i saw the devil staring back
and i was not surprised.
i looked to my nest, i looked to my hope,
i looked the stars above
i saw a greasy frying-pan
and mine eggs, the shells thereof!
i screamed and i wailed! i fought, i flailed!
i cursed you like the dickens!
i sobbed and went limp and heard you say,
"but dear, they tasted like chicken!"
|
|
|
|
