If all the world were apple pie,
and all the seas were ink,
and all the trees were bread and cheese,
how would we fill up our SUVs?
((/ デ.ㄟ) This poem is called "Tearstained Bloodstained Symphony"
...
droplet falling,
into the sink.
bleeding razor bleeding soul
BLASPHEMY of the heart?
..........,,,,,,ponderousescape;;
.
.
. . . from pain.if I looking for frog
him name is hopkin green frog
I lost my frog
329-3228
Love, Terry
P.S. I'll find my frog
Who took my frog
Who found my frog
2012 15th Ave. S
I want my froggy!
My frog is Missing
After all
My frog toy
Please call me
(202) 329-3228
or 911
My name is Terry Chen
My frog hopkin
I can't find my frog!
It doesn't found it!
>>2
that just seems more beatnik than emo
i can even hear a distant bongo
I shed my itchy little coat
of sociability,
and dive into my naked self
and swim out to the sea.
Some voltage
poantage
koentate
drum drum
seeming timeless
future gone
Not now
it's too cold...
gone out...
get away...
easily mistaken..
relive the night...
Negative Nancy
It was always her fancy
To rain on others' parades
Because she was a whore
And had sex with four
She soon died of AIDs
thinking back,
it has become obvious
that cocteau was something of a fag
(not that i am implying
that there is anything wrong with that).
english haiku
are to poetry as is
urine to fine wine
we are not discussing books here
what the hell guys
what are you doing
I just read a page
It bore just one little word
That's what it was: sage
>>13
Sage doesn't rhyme with page and it's also two syllables. also the only reason to sage a discussion board post is avoid bumping it. As i will now do.
>>14
Why did you assume I wasn't using the word that's one syllabe and that means "wise man"?
Also I didn't want to bump the thread. I still don't.
I'll leave you pondering over the intent behind the piece of poetry and its context, how one might misinterpret it, if the intent itself wasn't to be misinterpreted, hence not being misinterpreted in the end, etc. Have fun.
http://iiichan.net/stuff/shakespeare/poemgenerator.php
Die!
Is lost which governs me both with that record could see doth depend?
Or some in thy friend'
Whose influence is best painter's art why so!
' I hate' from these waste hath love toward others are dead fleece made me!
What strained touches ne'er love and him leave for memorial still shall never can afford;
To have might I am to leap!
Since his youth.
Which flies from my heavy eyelids open:
I bring me thou take;
Who is my love was not my plague this and this vile world well beseem thy cruel eye of day my mistress' thrall?
His trim;
'thus far a former child
For thee hold?
Little feet.
Waves crashing against the toes.
Either let me engulf you, says the sea,
Or go back to your desert.
tiger patio library
cervantes buenos aires
ancestors
Now think about your dad.
What's your dad like?
I wanna meet that dad.
It isn't really poetry unless it rhymes, IMO.
There's the more masculine and feminine ways to do it.
Otherwise free verse is pretty lame; it blows,
So let's sage this thread and screw it.
>>20
There are such things as prosody,
Alliteration, assonance, and imagery.
And more subtle things that you pass by
That you should take note of apparently.
There once was a man from nantucket
who kept his cock in a bucket
...
>>22
He took out his wang
Then stroked it and bang
Out pops and elfin to lick it
Funny, how use only brings a bout wear -terror- and rust...
even 'f it's only public use's in a falsetto -
providing truthful falterings -
not ever resting, still trying.
Oroborus crying -still- wronged though he was -
here, where those fiends joy of that Angel's error;
that righteous devil's face, nay, wings bear the same.
Postmodern, in that heartfelt stray zealousy;
my second opinion, the first you'd ever see.
But - no, not the only one wa'king.
You see - mine mind, that 'Last' shot -
a culmination's all I'd bother to speak.
Yet, I wished so hard; for her that I'd loved to care.
Yea - I lost it all, after finding such error.
Why, back in those days when everything was so innocent;
a hero was all I'd had - until none more saviors struck.
Was that all so wrong? - no, truly a favor's luck.
Hello; my neighbor, now old friend...
There once was woman from Venus
whose body was shaped like a
Hentai on the screen;
Big boobies covered in cream;
Lonely man with free hand;
No lotion;
God damn.
no poem,
not a poet,
cant write decent, dont get it.
this is not a poem,
i'm not a poet.
I'm at a loss of words.
they
fall
from
the
grace
of
my
skull
all
starry
eyed
about
heaven
as
they
paint
the
paperWith a messy scene as that noone quite reads into "why?"
An internal combustion tends to the exterior, repossesses who it owns and kills those inferior. If a sparkle could be seen from miles away cal Santa Claus and he will come on his sleigh.
My son is dead.
Shot in the head.
Pierced by lead,
he bled and bled.
I am an Indian man
I come from India
Sanjit is my name
I do what I possibly can
I cum from my penis
Pratap is my name
I had a dream where a man
Wearing a kurta said
Vijay is my name
But you know what?
India is big big big
It can take all the possible calls
If you need hardware advice
No problem
Curry?
No problem
Funny accent?
No problem
But what India does not have
Is Sanjit, Pratap and Vijay
For they are there now
And your wife cheats you with them