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Hehe. 'Cummings'. Heh.

mensch-o-maticmensch-o-matic Registered User regular
edited September 2010 in Social Entropy++
"We Stopped at Perfect Days"
Richard Brautigan

We stopped at perfect days
and got out of the car.
The wind glanced at her hair.
It was as simple as that.
I turned to say something--
SO I GUESS IT'S TIME FOR A POETRY THREAD
"Love"
Lola Haskins

She tries it on, like a dress.
She decides it doesn't fit,
and starts to take it off.
Her skin comes, too.

COME ON YOU SLUTS
“Songs”
Langston Hughes

I sat there singing her
Songs in the dark.

She said,
I do not understand
The words.

I said,
There are
No words.

I GOT THE THIRST

mensch-o-matic on
«134

Posts

  • HobnailHobnail Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Rat shit, bat shit, dirty old crotch

    Sixty nine assholes tied in a knot

    HOORAY!

    Lizard shit!

    FUCK!

  • mensch-o-maticmensch-o-matic Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    framing dat on my wall hope u dont mind

  • Kuribo's ShoeKuribo's Shoe Kuribo's Stocking North PoleRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Hobnail wrote: »
    Rat shit, bat shit, dirty old crotch

    Sixty nine assholes tied in a knot

    HOORAY!

    Lizard shit!

    FUCK!

    - George Carlin

    xmassig2.gif
  • BeastehBeasteh THAT WOULD NOT KILL DRACULARegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    reading some keats coleridge + kipling

    fuck all y'all

  • UbikUbik i am a god in a french-ass restaurantRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Imagine I posted The Red Wheelbarrow and the Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock because that's what I do every time there is a poetry thread

    Also, Walt Whitman

    CleezusSig_zpsfa821add.png
  • Kuribo's ShoeKuribo's Shoe Kuribo's Stocking North PoleRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    HE WILL NOT SEE ME STOPPING HERE TO WATCH HIS WOODS FILL UP WITH SNOW

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  • BeastehBeasteh THAT WOULD NOT KILL DRACULARegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    poets are generally crazy bitches

    like

    get sad and cut your eye out by age 17 crazy

  • mensch-o-maticmensch-o-matic Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    dont be lazy

    repost, those dudes rule and cannot be read enough

  • Kuribo's ShoeKuribo's Shoe Kuribo's Stocking North PoleRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

    In what distant deeps or skies
    Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
    On what wings dare he aspire?
    What the hand dare sieze the fire?

    And what shoulder, & what art.
    Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
    And when thy heart began to beat,
    What dread hand? & what dread feet?

    What the hammer? what the chain?
    In what furnace was thy brain?
    What the anvil? what dread grasp
    Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

    When the stars threw down their spears,
    And watered heaven with their tears,
    Did he smile his work to see?
    Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

    Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

    xmassig2.gif
  • PonyPony Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    poetry is gay
    it is for gay fags for sure
    this is a haiku

  • AMP'dAMP'd Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Below the thunders of the upper deep;
    Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
    His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
    The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
    About his shadowy sides: above him swell
    Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
    And far away into the sickly light,
    From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
    Unnumbered and enormous polypi
    Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
    There hath he lain for ages and will lie
    Battening upon huge sea-worms in his sleep,
    Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
    Then once by man and angels to be seen,
    In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

    [SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
  • Calamity JaneCalamity Jane That Wrong Love Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Ay Yo

    Wu Whole Platoon Filled With Raccoons

    Corner Sittin Wine N**** Sippin' Apple Boone

    This Ain't No White Cartoon

    -Ghostface Killah

  • Grey GhostGrey Ghost Okay... This looks bad.Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Ted Kooser wrote:
    Today, from a distance, I saw you
    walking away, and without a sound
    the glittering face of a glacier
    slid into the sea. An ancient oak
    fell in the Cumberlands, holding only
    a handful of leaves, and an old woman
    scattering corn to her chickens looked up
    for an instant. At the other side
    of the galaxy, a star thirty-five times
    the size of our own sun exploded
    and vanished, leaving a small green spot
    on the astronomer's retina
    as he stood on the great open dome
    of my heart with no one to tell.

    zw3k8eu.gif
  • mensch-o-maticmensch-o-matic Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    forgot to post this, its from the google scribe thread and is tits (thanks agent orange!!)
    forever in a finite volume of gas
    there is no other option
    but to take up
    the only
    breath

    e: ALSO THIS IS SO CHEERY HOLY SHIT
    "The Orange" by Wendy Cope
    At lunchtime I bought a huge orange
    The size of it made us all laugh.
    I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—
    They got quarters and I had a half.

    And that orange it made me so happy,
    As ordinary things often do
    Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park
    This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

    The rest of the day was quite easy.
    I did all my jobs on my list
    And enjoyed them and had some time over.
    I love you. I’m glad I exist.

  • PharezonPharezon Struggle is an illusion. Victory is in the Qun.Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    WHEN the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East
    'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast,
    An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent deceased
    Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier.
    Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
    Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
    Serve, serve, serve as a soldier,
    So-oldier of the Queen!

    Now all you recruities what's drafted to-day,
    You shut up your rag-box an' 'ark to my lay,
    An' I'll sing you a soldier as far as I may:
    A soldier what's fit for a soldier.
    Fit, fit, fit for a soldier . . .

    First mind you steer clear o' the grog-sellers' huts,
    For they sell you Fixed Bay'nets that rots out your guts -
    Ay, drink that 'ud eat the live steel from your butts -
    An' it's bad for the young British soldier.
    Bad, bad, bad for the soldier . . .

    When the cholera comes - as it will past a doubt -
    Keep out of the wet and don't go on the shout,
    For the sickness gets in as the liquor dies out,
    An' it crumples the young British soldier.
    Crum-, crum-, crumples the soldier . . .

    But the worst o' your foes is the sun over'ead:
    You must wear your 'elmet for all that is said:
    If 'e finds you uncovered 'e'll knock you down dead,
    An' you'll die like a fool of a soldier.
    Fool, fool, fool of a soldier . . .

    If you're cast for fatigue by a sergeant unkind,
    Don't grouse like a woman nor crack on nor blind;
    Be handy and civil, and then you will find
    That it's beer for the young British soldier.
    Beer, beer, beer for the soldier . . .

    Now, if you must marry, take care she is old -
    A troop-sergeant's widow's the nicest I'm told,
    For beauty won't help if your rations is cold,
    Nor love ain't enough for a soldier.
    'Nough, 'nough, 'nough for a soldier . . .

    If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loath
    To shoot when you catch 'em - you'll swing, on my oath! -
    Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er: that's Hell for them both,
    An' you're shut o' the curse of a soldier.
    Curse, curse, curse of a soldier . . .

    When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck,
    Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck,
    Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck
    And march to your front like a soldier.
    Front, front, front like a soldier . . .

    When 'arf of your bullets fly wide in the ditch,
    Don't call your Martini a cross-eyed old bitch;
    She's human as you are - you treat her as sich,
    An' she'll fight for the young British soldier.
    Fight, fight, fight for the soldier . . .

    When shakin' their bustles like ladies so fine,
    The guns o' the enemy wheel into line,
    Shoot low at the limbers an' don't mind the shine,
    For noise never startles the soldier.
    Start-, start-, startles the soldier . . .

    If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white,
    Remember it's ruin to run from a fight:
    So take open order, lie down, and sit tight,
    And wait for supports like a soldier.
    Wait, wait, wait like a soldier . . .

    When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
    And the women come out to cut up what remains,
    Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
    An' go to your Gawd like a soldier.
    Go, go, go like a soldier,
    Go, go, go like a soldier,
    Go, go, go like a soldier,
    So-oldier of the Queen!

    jkZziGc.png
  • AMP'dAMP'd Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Half a league, half a league, half a league onward

    [SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
  • TaskmanTaskman Registered User regular
    edited September 2010

    (A silly little poem)

    Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
    I'll draw a sketch of thee,
    What kind of pencil shall I use?
    2B or not 2B?


    (When I Suspected)

    There will be a time when it will end.
    Be it parting
    Be it death
    So each passing minute with you
    Pendulummed with sadness.
    So many times
    I looked long into your face.
    I could hear the clock ticking.

    uGn5f.png
  • BeastehBeasteh THAT WOULD NOT KILL DRACULARegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
  • TaskmanTaskman Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
  • mensch-o-maticmensch-o-matic Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Taskman wrote: »
    Spike Milligan was an absolute fucking genius.
    I'm Walking Backwards For Christmas



    User Rating:

    -- /10
    (0 votes)




    0 Print friendly version

    0 E-mail this poem to e friend

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    I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
    Across the Irish Sea,
    I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
    It's the only thing for me.

    I've tried walking sideways,
    And walking to the front,
    But people just look at me,
    And say it's a publicity stunt.

    I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
    To prove that I love you.

    An immigrant lad, loved an Irish colleen
    From Dublin Galway Bay.
    He longed for her arms,
    But she spurned his charms,
    And sailed o'er the foam away

    She left the lad by himself, on his own
    All alone, a-sorrowing
    And sadly he dreamed, or at least that's the
    way it seemed, buddy,
    That an angel choir did sing -
    An angel choir did sing.

    I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
    Across the Irish Sea.
    I'm walking backwards for Christmas,
    It's the finest thing for me.

    And so I've tried walking sideways,
    And walking to the front.
    But people just laughed, and said,
    'It's a publicity stunt'.

    So I'm walking backwards for Christmas
    To prove that I love you.

    dang why didnt i know this guy as a kid

  • VoproSTEINVoproSTEIN howdyRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Once upon a midnight dreary

    and then I forgot the other 99 lines

  • mensch-o-maticmensch-o-matic Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    VoproSTEIN wrote: »
    Once upon a midnight dreary
    while i porn surfed, weak and weary,
    over many a strange and spurious site of 'hot xxx galore'.
    While i clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning, and my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour,
    " 'Tis not possible!", i muttered, "give me back my free hardcore!"
    quoth the server, 404.

  • FAQFAQ Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
  • PeccaviPeccavi oh... oh my!Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    A.E. Housman

    The Grizzly Bear is huge and wild
    It has devoured the little child.
    The little child is unaware
    It has been eaten by the bear.
    Guess who
    Spoiler:

    kvhn.png
  • LabelLabel Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    ROTTEN MEAT RISING

    SWIFT SWORD STRIKES BRING FALLING

    LIKE CHERRY BLOSSOMS

  • DarmakDarmak Godking of the Snerkywizards Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    POOP POOP POOP POOP POOP
    POOP POOP POOP POOP POOP PLOP PLOP
    POOP POOP POOP POOP BUTTES

    PIZTDhW.jpg
  • DarmakDarmak Godking of the Snerkywizards Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    You can quote me on that one.

    PIZTDhW.jpg
  • PiptheFairPiptheFair Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    you guys seen reanimator?

    STEAM
    Spoiler:
  • SnowbeatSnowbeat i need something to kick this thing's ass over the lineRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    LASER
    BEAM

    Q1e6oi8.gif
  • HobnailHobnail Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    Always wanted to put Edgar Allen Poe in a headlock

  • Cosmic SombreroCosmic Sombrero Registered User
    edited September 2010
    why god damn bears can climb a tree

    How insaine do you have to be
    to be a bear and climb a tree
    i mean you weigh a million pounds
    why the fuck dont you fall down
    it makes no sence if you ask me
    why god damn bears can climb a tree

  • DarmakDarmak Godking of the Snerkywizards Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    That was beautiful, Sombrero

    PIZTDhW.jpg
  • HellaJeffHellaJeff FAB FRESH RAIIINBOOWWWWWRegistered User regular
    edited September 2010
    I hate mostly all poetry. Exception is Jacques Prevert.

  • RaneadosRaneados Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    ew poetry

    why?

    Dubh wrote: »
    Rane is the future of ancient greek tradition
  • mensch-o-maticmensch-o-matic Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
  • RaneadosRaneados Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    but that's impossible!

    you can't spite me

    it's an impossible feat!

    Dubh wrote: »
    Rane is the future of ancient greek tradition
  • StaleghotiStaleghoti Registered User
    edited September 2010
    Inner breathlessness, outer restlessness
    By the time I caught up to freedom I was out of breath
    Grandma asked me what I'm running for
    I guess I'm out for the same thing the sun is sunning for
    What mothers birth their youngens for
    And some say Jesus coming for
    For all I know the earth is spinning slow
    Suns at half mast 'cause masses ain't aglow
    On bended knee, prostrate before an altered tree
    I've made the forest suit me
    Tables and chairs
    Papers and prayers
    Matter versus spirit
    A metal ladder
    A wooden cross
    A plastic bottle of water
    A mandala encased in glass
    A spirit encased in flesh
    Sound from shaped hollows
    The thickest of mucus released from heightened passion
    A man that cries in his sleep
    A truth that has gone out of fashion
    A mode of expression
    A paint splattered wall
    A carton of cigarettes
    A bouquet of corpses
    A dying forest
    A nurtured garden
    A privatized prison
    A candle with a broken wick
    A puddle that reflects the sun
    A piece of paper with my name on it
    I'm surrounded
    I surrender
    All
    All that I am I have been
    All I have been has been a long time coming
    I am becoming all that I am
    The spittle that surrounds the mouth-piece of the flute
    Unheard, yet felt
    A gathered wetness
    A quiet moisture
    Sound trapped in a bubble
    Released into wind
    Wind fellows and land merchants
    We are history's detergent
    Water soluble, light particles, articles of cleansing breath
    Articles amending death
    These words are not tools of communication
    They are shards of metal
    Dropped from eight story windows
    They are waterfalls and gas leaks
    Aged thoughts rolled in tobacco leaf
    The tools of a trade
    Barbers barred, barred of barters
    Catch phrases and misunderstandings
    But they are not what I feel when I am alone
    Surrounded by everything and nothing
    And there isn't a word or phrase to be caught
    A verse to be recited
    A man to de-fill my being in those moments
    I am blankness, the contained center of an "O"
    The pyramidic containment of an "A"
    I stand in the middle of all that I have learned
    All that I have memorized
    All that I've known by heart
    Unable to reach any of it
    There is no sadness
    There is no bliss
    It is a forgotten memory
    A memorable escape route that only is found by not looking
    There, in the spine of the dictionary the words are worthless
    They are a mere weight pressing against my thoughtlessness
    But then, who else can speak of thoughtlessness with such confidence
    Who else has learned to sling these ancient ideas
    like dead rats held by their tails
    so as not to infect this newly oiled skin
    I can think of nothing heavier than an airplane
    I can think of no greater conglomerate of steel and metal
    I can think of nothing less likely to fly
    There are no wings more weighted
    I too have felt a heaviness
    The stare of man guessing at my being
    Yes I am homeless
    A homeless man making offerings to the after-future
    Sculpting rubber tree forests out of worn tires and shoe soles
    A nation unified in exhale
    A cloud of smoke
    A native pipe ceremony
    All the gathered cigarette butts piled in heaps
    Snow covered mountains
    Lipsticks smeared and shriveled
    Offerings to an afterworld
    Tattoo guns and plastic wrappers
    Broken zippers and dead eyed dolls
    It's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
    I have seeded a forest of myself
    Little books from tall trees
    It matters not what this paper be made of
    Give me notebooks made of human flesh
    Dried on steel hooks and nooses
    Make uses of use, uses of us
    It's all overwhelming me, oak and elming me
    I have seeded a forest of myself
    Little books from tall trees
    On bended knee
    Prostrate before an altered tree
    I've made the forest suit me
    Tables and chairs
    Papers and prayers
    Matter vs. spirit, through meditation
    I program my heart to beat breakbeats and hum basslines on exhalation

    tmmysta-sig.png2wT1Q.gifYAH!YAH!STEAMYoutubeMixesPSN: Clintown
    Dear satan I wish for this or maybe some of this....oh and I'm a medium or a large.
  • mensch-o-maticmensch-o-matic Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
  • RaneadosRaneados Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    exactly!

    mm sandwiches

    Dubh wrote: »
    Rane is the future of ancient greek tradition
  • PonyPony Registered User regular
    edited September 2010
    hey guys check out my deviantart page

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