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My Tomahawk goes up, UP, AND AWAY! (Villanelle) by Jeremi B. Handrinos
Bugs Bunny really loved Elmer Fudd. And after sex came the question. "Were there chemicals in your SCUD?" Can you guess my favorite soap sud? Yep, Mr. Bubbles is germ prevention. Bugs Bunny scrubbed after Elmer Fudd. I clicked on the war, and smoked some bud. Praying for a doritos manifestation. I then pondered sex with Ashley Judd. "Were there chemicals in your SCUD?" That line was late due to masturbation. No one really ever liked Elmer Fudd. With a stupid laugh, he was no stud. A stoned artist's twisted creation. "Were there chemicals in his SCUD?" Cucumbers on my eyes, I call for more mud. But my wait-staff are all in detention. I pray what's in my mouth just isn't cud. "Were there chemicals in your SCUD?"

Up the ladder: Crop Circle
Down the ladder: spring

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Arithmetic Mean: 7.1
Weighted score: 6.05
Overall Rank: 1191
Posted: March 20, 2003 7:08 PM PST; Last modified: March 20, 2003 7:08 PM PST
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Comments:
[n/a] wLeBlanc IIIw @ 198.81.26.167 | 20-Mar-03/9:27 PM | Reply
My tomahawk goes up, UP and straight into your left temple. As blood starts oozing, I realize that I did the right thing. Murder is justified for crap poetry.
[n/a] Jeremi B. Handrinos @ 24.126.113.154 > wLeBlanc IIIw | 20-Mar-03/9:40 PM | Reply
Really!
[n/a] OneFingerAnswer @ 216.138.10.3 > Jeremi B. Handrinos | 21-Mar-03/2:21 AM | Reply
"Breakin the law! Breakin the law!" I think that it was interesting to see the breaking of the rules of the form but I'd like to see more substance and meaning to your stuff. No offence meant by that. You're great with images and mixing obscure and pop references into your works but when they come together I'm often left wondering why.

If murder were the penalty for bad poetry there would be no poets. Every poet writes a stinker once in a while. Or maybe twice.
[n/a] Jeremi B. Handrinos @ 24.126.118.216 > OneFingerAnswer | 21-Mar-03/7:55 AM | Reply
I have a compendium of quite a few poems. Over a thousand, Actually. I have been writing since I was a very young man. In the beginning, it was about perfect sentences, grammar, spelling, punctuation, and structure. Now, it's about bagging the chicks, brewsky, and not falling on sharp objects at three in the morning. After all's said and done though, most would find the majority of my work to be excruciatingly serious and dramaticaly scientific and theoretical, and that's why I like to break away as often as I can to name drop and be a pop sop, but mostly just to fucking laugh and relax. That, my friend, is all folks. My way of taking mental vacations at the surf and spa
[10] INTRANSIT @ 205.188.209.77 > Jeremi B. Handrinos | 21-Mar-03/1:54 PM | Reply
DAMN THE TORPEDOES!.......
[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 131.111.212.215 > OneFingerAnswer | 21-Mar-03/9:28 AM | Reply
Fuck you. Every time I look at your comment I have to listen to Judas Priest just to get the fucking song out of my head, and I hate Judas Priest.
What? You were under the impression that we thought you liked Mr. halford
[n/a] OneFingerAnswer @ 216.138.10.3 > Jeremi B. Handrinos | 21-Mar-03/10:48 AM | Reply
Robbie is an ugly mo... umm... father fucker isn't he?

Maybe if you could point out some of your more serious stuff to me then? I really enjoyed the few serious ones I found but like you said you have lots of stuff on here. It's kind of hard to shift through it all.
[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 131.111.212.215 > OneFingerAnswer | 21-Mar-03/1:57 PM | Reply
BREAKIN THE LAW BREAKIN THE LAW

I'm listening to it right now. It's about the eighth time today. I'm going to fucking explode.

P.S. Listen to "Hail Horror Hail" by Sigh. It's fucking ace.
"In my head... the laughter comes again
And the voices that compel me to hunt
...To think the unthinkable...
...Commit the unspeakable...

I wait for the dark, weapons at my side
Talons of demons from which you can't hide
I look for prey as the night is falling
I smell their scent, their blood is calling

Beyond all morality into insanity
I plunge my knife in you again and again
Torture your corpse before it's cold
I seek to devour your life and soul

Scream if you want no-one will hear you
All your tears will not save your life
Your dying body will be mine to use
I cut out your weakness with my knife

Through my blood shifts a hate I can't resist
Take my vengeance on your naked corpse
I celebrate your death, (your) life extinguished
Hail Horror Hail!

'Kill for me, just kill for me'
Every dark corner seems to know my name
The voices grow louder in their infamy
Your fear is my pleasure, death just a game

Beyond all morality into insanity
I plunge my knife in you again and again
Torture your corpse before it's cold
I seek to devour your life and soul

Shall I hold your funeral?
Cast petals upon your soft white breasts?
To settle amongst the drying blood
Like all the rest, like all the rest...

The slience of the night shall be your requiem
There'll be only one mourner at your funeral
...I celebrate your death...
...As I lay you to rest...

The blood on my hands is a sign of divinity
I am not a beast, I am a God!
I'll rape your soul like your virginity
Judgement will be done...

Death is what I give, I need to live
To laugh at despair, to smile at grief
Rejoice, I leave you no other choice
I have death's face, the Devil's voice".

I especially am found of the group photo.
Thanks, now I have music to cook to in the morning again,
and something interesting to talk about at my next MENSA meeting.

[10] INTRANSIT @ 152.163.188.72 | 21-Mar-03/5:28 AM | Reply
friggin hilarious!!! let me get you a lawn chair and we'll nosh on red vines and watch eh?
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