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I Married an Infectious Woman (My Love, 'Futility') (Ode) by SupremeDreamer Being human is enduring Futility
and so I ask in stupidity,
"Where o where is my delusions of power
that eludes me, in this comic & dire hour?"
Mayhaps it lies within the depths
of my offensive anal cavern
of bodily filth and comedy,
where a tiny creature sleeps.
At times one can hear its whistling snore,
if they dare to endure the odor that follows.
Where is the center of my strength?
It might be possible that it's my pink pucker
who has the ability to clench and emit a whistle
along with a pinch of perfume from Hades...
Mayhaps this power is in some faith
that I can easily begin to acquire
if I braved the multitude of beliefs
from which one can choose to put their faith
'n then pray that I have chosen "wisely".
Mayhaps the power lies within my fleshrod
with its sack of seed whose purpose
is to supply women with swollen bellies,
and the painful sprouting of little curses.
Mayhaps I am without any influence
other than wicked tools of havoc,
various acts of idiocy, and vile seed
meant to create more dim tykes
to help spread my talent to irritate.
I am a man whose house belongs to a woman.
Her name, Futility, is not a mere coincidence,
especially since I was foolish, having accepted her hand
in an expensive ritual of ever-lasting unity.
My only course of action as retribution
is to have her endure nine months of pregnancy,
whereby she gives birth and is soon quite ready
to again produce more of my tiny hellish curses.
So thus my disease spreads!
Leaving me to ask myself in earnest,
as would a dunce donning a proper shitwig,
this query so queer,
"Where o where is my delusions of power
that eludes me, in this comic & dire hour?"
Up the ladder:
Skellington Bakery
Down the ladder:
Beached (Or how I learned to give up the day)
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 7.1
Posted: March 30, 2004 4:46 AM PST; Last modified: March 30, 2004 4:50 AM PSTWeighted score: 6.05 Overall Rank: 1208 Comments:
Much Improvement! I am indeed impressed. -10-
Have you emerged from your lil rabbit hole?! Did you finish your novel? Have you returned or are you simply visiting, soon to start hopping quickly away into the forest of "The Unshaved Pine Tree's"? Eh?
As sentimental as this will appear, I am compelled to say this: I miss you, shithead. :)
It's weird. Like a fuckin reunion episode here today.
Well I haven't talked or poked fun at that lil furry beast in I don't know how many months.. and when the fuck have any comment or action of mine on rankerville been anything other than "weird"... I'll have you know that its my ranker M.O. to the extreme.
But one should worry if a highschool reunion takes place here in ranker-ville.. I despise any congregation which relates to the horror of goverment-run education.
Hey, SupremeDreamer! I didn't say bad-weird.
you should have
Anal Discharge.
A hastily-assembled crotch-faced lobster
At least I don't have the pleasure of owning feces-encrusted wings from AnusVille!!!
I knew you would.
He's slacking off.. honestly, it used to be battle after battle, golden wings flapping (a temporary scar which i earned on a few occasions by annoying the general good folk of ranker, but more specifically the dark one from neptune's anus!) debate of serious tone and babble so inane it would puzzle even Jesu himself... it was glorious. But now that winged curse is lazy, resigning himself to quick short spurts such as "bow'ls". It has only fueled my contempt for him and all his kind.. but that will be expressed fully later in a comic series called "Darkie vs. Dunce-Jester!!"
Who knows.. maybe marvel will make it into a fucking movie.
Call it the porridge-mumbling blabber of an old man, but it's not arousing posting on poemeranker anymore. It stopped being arousing long before 'Child of my Buttocks'. I fear I have become a dried-up hoboglove bulging with patriotic mucus and will never be able to stop looking and posting though.
Do you think poemranker has changed since you joined, or has it always been a soul-shriveling vortex of clabbered man-milk?
Now thats a bit silly to ask, he's been here for a few years.. two I think- a wicked long time in any case, one the first bunch of bastards to become a member perhaps.
If you find it so soul-shriv'ling, why in Sodomy do you keep posting? You are a fool, zodiac. -=Dark_Angel=- has no interest in poetry. The only reason he came to this site was to mock. You, on the other hand, have dedicated your life to studying poemes. Perhaps that's why you find an amateur on-line poetry forum chock-full of dullards so soul-shriv'ling. But what the hell were you expecting?
Its not a question of arousal you toilet-impared freak! Its a question of duty- your despicable acts of terror and ability to stir conflict make you an essential part of this cursed Ranker Existence.
Must I deprive you of your wheel-chair as some sick form of motivation? Perhaps embalm you rotting flesh with feces? Resort to chemical stimulation? Do you suggest I actually endure this ranker life of mine without you to make it interesting and give me plenty of good opportunities to upset the peace of the ranker with acts of retardation? How depraved can you be you crippled shit-crumpet!?
Pay no heed.. my comments are full of drama intermixed with innumerous online personalities. And -Anal Discharge-
Except that all your 'innumerous online personalities' are identical. Thanks!
Now thats weak. And Incorrect. -Uranus Wins!-
The perception you have of yourself is so ridiculous, and so far from the truth, that any minute now your amazing zanyness will cave in on itself, staining all our terrified jodhpurs in a dreadful slurry of 'fascinating anecdotes about your way-beyond-the-extreme meth adventures.' And then, having based your entire personality upon telling everyone about drugs, and having based your entire poetic career upon a wanton smearing of tens by that UNPRECEDENTED DULLARD rockmage, your shrivelled prune of a body will come crawling back to me, weeping and begging for death. And I will look down upon you with granite eyes, the cold wind blowing through my golden locks as the sky turns wrathful overhead, and my jodhpurs fall, as if by magic, to the floor. And even as the torrents beat against my massive jaw, and the raging ocean crashes against ev'ry poop deck known to man, and even as you lie writhing like an urchin beneath another man's straining buttocks, the last remaining shards of your utterly drooping persona scattered like dung about the nest, even then that voice, that voice you know so well, will whisper to the chimes of a distant flushing outhouse: Bow'ls, my lad. Utter, utter bow'ls.
You've just handed down unto my drafty dome a divine prophesy, which is to my disillusioned eyes as cataclysmic, if not even more so, than the Book of Revelations.
But as for basing my career on RM's poetical trasmission of voting warts of "10"? Means my "career" was without some sort of base before his invansion of poemranker with his despicable dirt-encrusted clicker brigade... But we both know that I was just as arrogant and ego-bloated before the coming of the Rockmage, in the days then my scores were in the dismal mudpit. And RM isn't the one who has drowned my posted pieces with votes that drastically affected my scores- CLS was the one who was the last to shower me with a flood of tens as a idiotic cop-out when I revealed her hypocritical/illogical and random barrages of zeros on one or two particular pennames of mine, and only tens given to the other aliases of mine. So she changed her votes to tens in order to appease me, which only deepened my disgust and frustration, utimately leading me to discontinue the barrage, then dismiss the hope of some explaination of her actions. My voting score/average was first built with the scars of past zeroing and various discriminative votes, and then only a few months ago endured spastic zeros and genial tens from two main clicker empowered forces and various lone vigilante(s). The mind-less character of voting caused me to look 'pon my score/average as irrelevant and unrelated over-all to my actual writing quality in a little over a mere month & 1/2 after having joined the ranker. I like to think my career is based on the comments recieved in response by all, even yours, and how I drove myself onwards with my bulging pimples of confidence and zany hyperboles, intermixed with regular acts of idiocy or intentional mindless-ness. As for my need of your cold rough hands to offer a brutal public fisting? Thats mostly a masochistic need that also offers a reason to declare war and busy myself with in endless amounts of arguement and babble; it fills the idle hours when I'm not otherwise motivated to pen s'more poems, prose etc. or formal turd-defacement of others. But your comment is one of many which could be joined together in a one combined account of my comic saga, entitled "Rigor-Pen'd Quarrels & Tribulations of a Farcical, Dim Trifler." _end rant transmission_
Boy George split his frenulum trying, Elton John ruptured his ringpiece trying, Rockmage grew a beard to hide his flabby colon because of trying, Paul Newman had three vertebrae removed trying, George Michael wore his ridge off trying, The Thompson Twins ejaculated blood trying, but none of these famous fags could surpass you in being a such a cuntishly big gay.
I like "mayhaps".
I guess I'm not much into more ass humor at the moment. It goes together well enough.
Well, its true that alot of posts have used ass humor and the shit that comes out of the almighty ass, so I understand what you mean. (DA perfected the art of writing about shit, course you've probably read those, if not I recommend reading them; he pioneered the art of writing about shit, or thats what I'm lead to believe.)
But I just had to make a contribution of somesort to "Ass Poetics".. I felt it was the next step after my Golden Shower piece lol.
"Ass Poetica" - nice!
In my continuing search to "get" -=DA=- I have read each and every one of his posts, including the one's he's deleted and prolly 90% of the comments. BTW, PLEASE Mr. -=A=-, if you read this - please will you repost "Love Letter to Crystal Lane Swift"???? that was truly a masterverk - I shit you not.
Trying to understand DA is like trying to produce pure white pieces of shit from your arse. But hey, its doesn't hurt to try!
But I wonder about the state of your health.. because 90% of his comments is.. well thats A LOT OF COMMENTS specially if you read the replies/insults/arguements that follow. You actually digesting that much material leads me to conclude that you have an odd obsession of the extreme sort... but everyone has their "thing". :) 376 view(s)
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Bits about disease spreading seed are a bit old hat.
I like that refrain too.. specially since I've been mumbling that to myself for three days, suddenly and for no reason.. ever had that happen to you? Then again I'm a freak with an odd genetic make-up.
Oh, just wondering.. you think I took the proper speech a bit far? (I figured its good in an ode.. or maybe that belief of mine is based on inane & erroneous presumptions.. ah well, do tell me your thoughts of this.)