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The Ode Of Clever Machine (Free verse) by SupremeDreamer
-- Clever birdie That sings "sheet sheet" I ponder you and why I cry from your song Wondering what I did wrong.. For you gave no clever songs or hymns Nor wise words that may -Perhaps- Lustrate my fate Of being a failed writer Yes, I tire of this song It smells of faeces "sheet sheet" Is the sound of your call And the smell of your breath Pissed me off, -So- I (yes me birdie) Send you to an early death With my letter opener I used when opening your message -Now- The smell of rotting flesh And whirling feathers Along with the feel Of blood dripping from metal Cleansed me of my worries I hear no more! The cries of The clever birdie Now I hear just my own cry: "Hee Hee Haa Haa" -chuckle- Last words: Yes fool, I smack you with my leather belt buckle.

Up the ladder: I Am(Defined)
Down the ladder: Untitled

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.3333335
Weighted score: 5.0896473
Overall Rank: 6167
Posted: June 23, 2003 3:58 AM PDT; Last modified: June 23, 2003 7:15 AM PDT
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Comments:
[7] cleverdevice @ 212.219.142.161 | 23-Jun-03/7:05 AM | Reply
go supreme dreamer, but typo of 'feces', should be faeces
[n/a] SupremeDreamer @ 66.81.159.207 > cleverdevice | 23-Jun-03/7:16 AM | Reply
thanks for mentioning the typo.
see what happens when people piss me off? ;D
[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. @ 131.111.8.101 > SupremeDreamer | 23-Jun-03/7:34 AM | Reply
Yet again you fail. "faeces" is a chiefly British variant of "feces". Whilst I, like all Gentlemen, prefer "faeces", I do believe you are American... ?
[n/a] SupremeDreamer @ 66.81.159.207 > -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. | 23-Jun-03/7:40 AM | Reply
he mentioned it and i checked it on webster.. webster didnt mind found it to be correct.. so it doesnt matter anyway. Im not american or british or a turkish monk in brown robes, and your pathetically just waiting and drooling for any opportunity to poke fun.. well, speak all you wish, after this comment i heed nothing of your foul cunt mouth. your politely, or "immaturedly" ignored Madam..
[8] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 | 23-Jun-03/9:27 AM | Reply
Ah, the smell of burnt love in the morning, priceless.
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