Poetry

[robert42]

Say somit deep!

lets get rid of the immature posts.... say somit deep

[robert42]

heres deep:

the chosen one
from the land of the frozen sun
where drunk nights get remembered
more then sober ones...

lol fuck knows

[beachguy in thongs]

masters of mind
endless in time
my world they can keep
as long as I say it deep

[robert42]

nice

When the Remi's in the system, ain't no tellin
Will I fuck em will I diss em, that's what these hoes yellin
I'm a pimp by blood, not relation
Y'all still chase on, I'll replace on, punks
Drunk of Dom, silk and gators
Spittin words makin birds till they flock see you later
Whether, drunk or high, skunk or thai
Nigga play against some playa shit, slugs gon fly
Ain't no lie, pimped out, the SSI
Nigga don't ask why, just respect it
She bought me the necklace, the bracelet
The Benz-o, she laced it
Crib-o, got it, interior decorated
Now my popularity grew, in each state
Now I got two in each state
Used to drink brew and eat steak
Now I pop bottles with models, larger steaks on large estates

hehe

[WEED]

you guys fucking suck. that shit isn't deep.

[robert42]

lol

come on then bitch boy

reveal

[WEED]

The swing created from the vertabrae, left outside to linger and dress through the sun, and inside-out face, where the space of bone meets marrow, the rampage surging like blood in a tube, the urine dotted t-shirt, all ripped like an untalented fighter, all fallen like an untalented cloud.

[Frequency]

pfft.

[robert42]

The swing created from the vertabrae, left outside to linger and dress through the sun, and inside-out face, where the space of bone meets marrow, the rampage surging like blood in a tube, the urine dotted t-shirt, all ripped like an untalented fighter, all fallen like an untalented cloud.

man thats deep but wtf lol but hey no1 i MEAN NO ONE gets flamed in robert42 book of poetry :)

[Az.]

Good afternoon.
madam. wish to
a pocket or bag; spoil
the line that you will be
straightened out. and popular in his umbrella when it was
the signalers. I
may say so a female
sheep bites you? A: rather
prolific and a lovely lady.

[buddymyfriend]

Drinking Alone Under The Moon

Among the flowers from a pot of wine
I drink alone beneath the bright moonshine.
I raise my cup to invite the moon, who blends
Her light with my shadow and we're three friends.
The moon does not know how to drink her share;
In vain my shadow follows me here and there.
Together with them for the time I stay
And make merry before spring's spend away.
I sing the moon to linger with my song;
My shadow disperses as I dance along.
Sober, we three remain cheerful and gay;
Drunken, we part and each goes his way.
Our friendship will outshine all earthly love;
Next time we'll meet beyond the stars above.

- Li Bai

[Frequency]

Brooze

The color of a bruise is in yellow on dark.
Then working a lightish red and the straight
finger it's far. Montana pipe shining on
the spot and its stair. A medicine push to
closer bruises, khaki in gray, a painting.
That green leaf, in curve, in blonde, where's
its leak, is way gone. A soon clock,
that moves the cold back in voice. The
random numbers there are in a print where
this gets hysterical and rinses.
What's the blood?

[Frequency]

Omnivore Paint


Saw art like supper over the hooks. On
them, hang arms, cut to halves. Will I shore to
wreckage? It did. Pirates say harps. Pink angel
blends (?) anything does. The fault, back-eyed black,
bringing. Sure not. Am I cornered in shotgun?
Purple vase of shape. Monster green scatters
dust to shaded scarves, the blue-light leaking.
Black and orange to contrast neither a
color. Beige pavement. Colors painting loud.

[Frequency]

Accompany Co.


In bleeding hallways, of armor scratched,
Of the roaches hidden, with food crumbing the lids,
Of a broken water, mirrors and dandruff combs;
Of pills, disastrous to touch like kindled fires,
Mopped repeatedly, mopped repeatedly, where we have stool dislodge,
Bleeding, long webs carved by spider tracks;
Where through a sink holds syringes [used],
Traveling like beasts.

[Frequency]

I have this shit owned.

[Frequency]

Thunderous Knives


Thunderous, your voice rained the halls like
Jelled explosives and your octagon pain
I could feel as sharp as a stencil.
My ears followed your crackled moans
Like hounds baked by the sun in fields
Strong as an ivory sword.

Your eyes were snapped gray, and your skin
Was melted into a pale mold that distorted
The senses like insufflated powders.
An ant-pile of blood-caked clothes lie
over the kitchen knives.

[WEED]

What of prayer?

Sinners, difference, capitol of blood
we pray for our bandages and lips.
Doors of technology open for guests
breaking because the glass raps.
The doors are thinking. Watch behind the flame
there is ash to blanket skin
with charcoal, it kisses in grunge spots
and poets for the clouds, we pray.
Of havoc stains, what will magic spread?
Underneath the silhouette of kitchen knives,
beaten, breathless, brunette child wanders
through the park leaves, praying against a thorn-bush
and she sings a song for everyone, about planes, ducks
and the underground musicians.

[WEED]

frequency, how long have you been writing for?

[GHoSToKeR]

Here's deep;

Vagina.

Thank you.

[beachguy in thongs]

Have you never fucked a virgin, Stoker?

[ermitonto]

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
SHIT PISS FUCK CUNT COCKSUCKER,
MOTHERFUCKER TITS FART TURD TWAT POO!

[robert42]

is that a poem on terrets?

[ADaisyChain]

...girls and fucked 'em at school
all i know is that
there were rumors he was into field hockey players
there were rumors
so he applied basically
he was gone the next day
and went off with the team
it's like - he was gon- they just like
it was so hush hush they were so...
quiet about it
and then the next thing you know...

[fat possum]

dutch weed for me,
dutch weed for you,
i'll have a bong,
you have one to.

[BlazinHaze]

The way you look
And how you stare
Hands on my face
And in my hair

The way you talk
Into my ear
And how you've dried
My every tear

The way you act
When it's just us
Nothing matters
Except for lust

The way we are
When we're alone
You feel so good
You make me moan

[NightProwler]

A mind without weed,
Is like a room without windows

[beachguy in thongs]

A mind without weed,
Is like a room without windows

No, a room without windows is like a mind without weed.

Your way works, too. :D

[flamingskullballs]

I love you too,
though without it are me and you,
"I love you" she said.

and also:

My boobies are nice,
they are made of rice,
whenever they bounce,
I want to tweak them,
i will make a bird nest,
right in between my breasts,
I always flash the pope,
and I clean them with a rope,
Clinton smokes dope,
I never use soap,
each time they nip out,
i get a brief hope,
they protect me from fear,
and I drown them in beer,
while wearing a white shirt.

[Edgar]

I had a cat named Snowball
She died! She died!
Mom said she was sleeping
She lied! She lied!
Why oh why is my cat dead?
Couldn't that Chrysler hit me instead?

[flamingskullballs]

edgar...thats the saddest thing ive ever read in my life...if you need a shoulder to cry on...theres always me...

[Edgar]

Oh, did you want original material? No- no, I dont do original, you dig?

that poem was quoted from the simpsons. (or atleast it should have been quoted...)

[flamingskullballs]

OH, snowball, i remember now

[beachguy in thongs]

I sat here, one day, watching the simpsons
The one where Bart sits next to Homer and pinches him.
Then Lisa came 'round
And then Marge found
the reason we still watch the simpsons

[welddiver]

Roses are Red
Pennies are Copper
It takes two hands
to hold my Whopper!!......... :D

[flamingskullballs]

hahaha

heres a nursery ryme for the children:

There once was a man who had a snake,
the snake got out of its cage,
he slid into a hole,
pumped it full,
cream came pouring after.

i should write childrens books man...

[BlazinHaze]

y'all are so deep and in touch witth your emotions

[beachguy in thongs]

in touch, emotions y'all our deep
With so your deep touch in emotions so y'all
Emotions y'all deep and in touch
With so y'all touch emotions deep
Deep emotions y'all touch

[robert42]

deep

[buddymyfriend]

Thought id share another:

A Naughty Little Poem


She whispered "will it hurt me?"
"Of course not" answered he
"It's a very simple process,
You can rely on me."

She said "I'm very frightened,
I've not had this before.
My friend has had it five times
And said it can be sore."

It was growing rather painful
Tears formed in her eyes
It was hurting quite a bit now
It must have been a size.

"Calm yourself" he whispered
"His face filled with a grin
"Try and open wider
So I can get it in."

"It's coming now" he whispered
"I know" she cried in bliss
Feeling it deep within her now
She said "I am glad I'm having this."

And with a final effort
She gave a frightened shout
He gripped it in anguish
And quickly pulled it out.

She lay back quite contended
Sighed and gave a smile
She said "I'm glad I came now
You made it worth my while."

Now if you read this carefully
The dentist you will find
Is not what you imagined
It's just your dirty mind!! ;)

[robert42]

^i like that.. nice...

[buddymyfriend]

Here's another:


I Am A De-sexed Pussy Cat

I am a desexed pussy cat, they took me to the vet,
Because I got all horny, but I never got one yet.
The female cats around me just hissed and scratched my face,
And my owners got annoyed with me when I hissed around the place.

So in humiliation for they couldn't face the truth,
I went and showed my discontent by crying on the roof.
Well this got the neighbours going, and in came all the calls,
When I heard the big one saying, "That cat is going to loose his balls."

We were waiting in the waiting room, I was naive I must mention,
Though I did detect some guilty looks and the air was full of tension.
And It must have been my cat instincts that made me loose my cool,
For I felt a great urgency to protect the family jewels.

So I escaped and I took off up the road,
Over a fence, across a yard, and tucked up inside was my load.
The little one caught me, -I cried and pleaded why?
As she handed me over to a man in a coat who stuck a needle into my thigh.

When I came to, - in a dopey sleepy blur,
I felt cold, depressed sore, -I couldn't even purr.
And when I think of all the injustices, cats aint got no rights,
Not like you two legged humans, that stay up and play up all night.

I was just a big fluffy kitten, a randy teenage tom,
But now I'm just a neutered thing, because both of my cods are gone.
So I hang out here on the hearth rug, slowly going crackers
All because some capitalistic, self-righteous vet, went and knicked my knackers.

[robert42]

^ i likethat better :D

[buddymyfriend]

Nearly

Don't you look under my matress mama,
You don't know what you will see.
Those books of bare naked women mama,
Belong to my brother, -- and not to me.

I did not even know they were there,
Honest, -- I've never even had a quick look.
If I had known such stuff existed,
To the rubbish dump the whole lot I'd have took.

I agree with YOU, -- It's horrid and rude,
They should be made to put on their clothes.
Just you give them all to me mama,
And into the bin I'll make sure the lot goes.

That filth you found is really disgusting,
Just wait till I find my young brother.
I'll kick his bum, and poke his eye,
You can count on me, --- yes you can mother.

I would NEVER read such horrible trash,
Naked young girls are a terrible sight.
It's not me, -- but your other son Hector,
Who drools over them every night.

Just give them here, -- give them to me,
You won't see the things any more.
They are crude and rude and perverted,
Hector must read them behind his closed door.

Mama, Mama, have you gone downstairs,
I think she has, -- I thought I was in for a spanking.
Gee whizz, that was close, -- I nearly got caught,
Now let's get back down to some serious wanking!

[thcbongman]

They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is nailed to his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row

Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid

To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row

Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words

And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"

Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row

Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row

Yes, I received your letter yesterday
About the time the door knob broke
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row

- Bob Dylan

[beachguy in thongs]

where's Robert??? Oh, well, ................................... ^ I like that.

[buddymyfriend]

Am Just A Normal Guy But
All My Dreams Are Kinky


I'm just a normal guy, just as plain as one can be.
My Mum & Dad were average folks, & that's how they raised me
I don't understand it, it's to normal things I'm geared
By day my life is sane, but at night my dreams are weird

I'm just a normal fella who goes off to work each day
I do my job, lunch with my mates, each week collect my pay
But in the night I dread the bed, each night is just the same
Cause all my dreams are kinky, one overnight sick game.

I'm dressed in a G-string tied in a bow
There's a chicken in a garter belt, Oh God no!
Birds fly by and wolf whistle overhead
Don't roll over there's a roo in the bed ...

15 Strippers all in a row
All with bra-straps ready to blow
One pretty lady dancin' in my lap
Don't you touch or you'll get a nasty slap.

I'm just a normal guy, just as plain as one can be.
My Mum & Dad were average folks, & that's how they raised me
I think one day when I was small, Ma dropped me in the sink
By day I'm just a normal sod, by all my dreams are kinked

I'd like to have a girlfriend, but it just never does work out
We get on fine until they find what my night dreams are about
Then they drop me like a stone, they say they can't compete
With nude three-breasted women with vibrators on their feet

Hippos in tutus, hot oil & cream
Chains and whips all to make me scream
Lizards & snakes all in strange places
They're gettin' it on & making lewd faces

When dreaming the nightclubs everywhere
Are chock full of animals in underwear
Teddy Bears in teddies, wombats in hot pants
All we need now is a couple thousand ants

I'm just a normal guy, just as plain as one can be.
My Mum & Dad were average folks, & that's how they raised me
My life could be near perfect, my life could be real fun
If only when I slept the chorus girls weren't dressed like nuns

I went to see a famous shrink, to straighten out my head
I told him if I can't get fixed I might as well be dead
He laid me down & said "tell me of your erotic dreams"
I said "One feather is erotic, not whole chickens soaked in cream!"

There are female wrestlers all covered in jelly
Exotic dancers doing things with their bellies
A cute sexy lady, covered in mud
Whispers in my ear with the voice of Elmer Fudd

There are strong males strippers with bricks in their jocks
With all those square corners they couldn't be socks
This stuff all around me is one kinky dream
Whatever you imagine I'm sure to have a theme

I guess it is my lot to life, can't beat it so I'll join
I suppose that they are only dreams they don't even cost a coin
So if at night you happen to hear me in my sleep
Just think, "that lucky bugger, is dancing naked tending sheep."

I'm just a normal guy, just as plain as one can be.
My Mum & Dad were average folks, & that's how they raised me
I don't under stand it, it's to normal things I'm geared
By day my life is sane, but at night my dreams are weird

Copyright; 1998 S. L. (Woody) Meltcher

[beachguy in thongs]

Robert???......................................... .^ I like that, even better

[buddymyfriend]

I AM MY OWN GRANDPA


I Am My Own Grandpa
Many, many years ago
When I was twenty-three
I got married to a widow
Pretty as could be.

This widow had a grow-up daughter
With flowing hair of red.
My father fell in love with her,
And soon the two were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law
And changed my very life.
Now my daughter was my mother,
For she was my father's wife.

To complicate the matters worse,
Although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
Of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became
A brother-in-law to dad.
And so became my uncle,
Though it made me very sad.

For if he was my uncle,
Then that also made him brother
To the widow's grown-up daughter
Who, of course, was my step-mother.

Father's wife then had a son
Who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
For he was my daughter's son.

My wife is now my mother's mother
And it makes me blue.
Because, although she is my wife,
She's my grandma, too.

If my wife is my grandmother,
Then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it,
It simply drives me wild.

For now I have become
The strangest case you ever saw,
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!


Copyright; Molly Ellis

[robert42]

Robert???......................................... .^ I like that, even better

I AM HERE :)

[beachguy in thongs]

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"This made my dad my son-in-law"


He would be your step-son-in-law, am I right?

-------
You cut me off!

[robert42]

yea man uve hit the nail on head :)

[BUZz UK]

this should have been called "the bullshit thread"...

[beachguy in thongs]

uh-oh, you may have hit the nail on the head
although, it may be better off knowing that Stop is Red
whatever I just said

[NightProwler]

I had a cat named Snowball
She died! She died!
Mom said she was sleeping
She lied! She lied!
Why oh why is my cat dead?
Couldn't that Chrysler hit me instead?

i was happy at first when i read that but then i laughed whein i realized it was mean.

[beachguy in thongs]

I'm glad that was brought to my attention, it's one of the saddest sights to be seen

[GHoSToKeR]

My two favourite poems... :)

Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came
by Robert Browning

I. My first thought was, he lied in every word,
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch the working of his lie
On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford
Suppression of the glee, that pursed and scored
Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.

II.

What else should he be set for, with his staff?
What, save to waylay with his lies, ensnare
All travellers who might find him posted there,
And ask the road? I guessed what skull-like laugh
Would break, what crutch 'gin write my epitaph
For pastime in the dusty thoroughfare,

III.

If at his counsel I should turn aside
Into that ominous tract which, all agree,
Hides the Dark Tower. Yet acquiescingly
I did turn as he pointed: neither pride
Nor hope rekindling at the end descried,
So much as gladness that some end might be.

IV.

For, what with my whole world-wide wandering,
What with my search drawn out thro' years, my hope
Dwindled into a ghost not fit to cope
With that obstreperous joy success would bring,
I hardly tried now to rebuke the spring
My heart made, finding failure in its scope.

V.

As when a sick man very near to death
Seems dead indeed, and feels begin and end
The tears and takes the farewell of each friend,
And hears one bid the other go, draw breath
Freelier outside, (``since all is o'er,'' he saith,
``And the blow falIen no grieving can amend;'')

VI.

While some discuss if near the other graves
Be room enough for this, and when a day
Suits best for carrying the corpse away,
With care about the banners, scarves and staves:
And still the man hears all, and only craves
He may not shame such tender love and stay.

VII.

Thus, I had so long suffered in this quest,
Heard failure prophesied so oft, been writ
So many times among ``The Band''---to wit,
The knights who to the Dark Tower's search addressed
Their steps---that just to fail as they, seemed best,
And all the doubt was now---should I be fit?

VIII.

So, quiet as despair, I turned from him,
That hateful cripple, out of his highway
Into the path he pointed. All the day
Had been a dreary one at best, and dim
Was settling to its close, yet shot one grim
Red leer to see the plain catch its estray.

IX.

For mark! no sooner was I fairly found
Pledged to the plain, after a pace or two,
Than, pausing to throw backward a last view
O'er the safe road, 'twas gone; grey plain all round:
Nothing but plain to the horizon's bound.
I might go on; nought else remained to do.

X.

So, on I went. I think I never saw
Such starved ignoble nature; nothing throve:
For flowers---as well expect a cedar grove!
But cockle, spurge, according to their law
Might propagate their kind, with none to awe,
You'd think; a burr had been a treasure-trove.

XI.

No! penury, inertness and grimace,
In some strange sort, were the land's portion. ``See
``Or shut your eyes,'' said nature peevishly,
``It nothing skills: I cannot help my case:
``'Tis the Last judgment's fire must cure this place,
``Calcine its clods and set my prisoners free.''

XII.

If there pushed any ragged thistle-stalk
Above its mates, the head was chopped; the bents
Were jealous else. What made those holes and rents
In the dock's harsh swarth leaves, bruised as to baulk
All hope of greenness?'tis a brute must walk
Pashing their life out, with a brute's intents.

XIII.

As for the grass, it grew as scant as hair
In leprosy; thin dry blades pricked the mud
Which underneath looked kneaded up with blood.
One stiff blind horse, his every bone a-stare,
Stood stupefied, however he came there:
Thrust out past service from the devil's stud!

XIV.

Alive? he might be dead for aught I know,
With that red gaunt and colloped neck a-strain,
And shut eyes underneath the rusty mane;
Seldom went such grotesqueness with such woe;
I never saw a brute I hated so;
He must be wicked to deserve such pain.

XV.

I shut my eyes and turned them on my heart.
As a man calls for wine before he fights,
I asked one draught of earlier, happier sights,
Ere fitly I could hope to play my part.
Think first, fight afterwards---the soldier's art:
One taste of the old time sets all to rights.

XVI.

Not it! I fancied Cuthbert's reddening face
Beneath its garniture of curly gold,
Dear fellow, till I almost felt him fold
An arm in mine to fix me to the place,
That way he used. Alas, one night's disgrace!
Out went my heart's new fire and left it cold.

XVII.

Giles then, the soul of honour---there he stands
Frank as ten years ago when knighted first.
What honest man should dare (he said) he durst.
Good---but the scene shifts---faugh! what hangman hands
Pin to his breast a parchment? His own bands
Read it. Poor traitor, spit upon and curst!

XVIII.

Better this present than a past like that;
Back therefore to my darkening path again!
No sound, no sight as far as eye could strain.
Will the night send a howlet or a bat?
I asked: when something on the dismal flat
Came to arrest my thoughts and change their train.

XIX.

A sudden little river crossed my path
As unexpected as a serpent comes.
No sluggish tide congenial to the glooms;
This, as it frothed by, might have been a bath
For the fiend's glowing hoof---to see the wrath
Of its black eddy bespate with flakes and spumes.

XX.

So petty yet so spiteful! All along,
Low scrubby alders kneeled down over it;
Drenched willows flung them headlong in a fit
Of route despair, a suicidal throng:
The river which had done them all the wrong,
Whate'er that was, rolled by, deterred no whit.

XXI.

Which, while I forded,---good saints, how I feared
To set my foot upon a dead man's cheek,
Each step, or feel the spear I thrust to seek
For hollows, tangled in his hair or beard!
---It may have been a water-rat I speared,
But, ugh! it sounded like a baby's shriek.

XXII.

Glad was I when I reached the other bank.
Now for a better country. Vain presage!
Who were the strugglers, what war did they wage,
Whose savage trample thus could pad the dank
Soil to a plash? Toads in a poisoned tank,
Or wild cats in a red-hot iron cage---

XXIII.

The fight must so have seemed in that fell cirque.
What penned them there, with all the plain to choose?
No foot-print leading to that horrid mews,
None out of it. Mad brewage set to work
Their brains, no doubt, like galley-slaves the Turk
Pits for his pastime, Christians against Jews.

XXIV.

And more than that---a furlong on---why, there!
What bad use was that engine for, that wheel,
Or brake, not wheel---that harrow fit to reel
Men's bodies out like silk? with all the air
Of Tophet's tool, on earth left unaware,
Or brought to sharpen its rusty teeth of steel.

XXV.

Then came a bit of stubbed ground, once a wood,
Next a marsh, it would seem, and now mere earth
Desperate and done with; (so a fool finds mirth,
Makes a thing and then mars it, till his mood
Changes and off he goes!) within a rood---
Bog, clay and rubble, sand and stark black dearth.

XXVI.

Now blotches rankling, coloured gay and grim,
Now patches where some leanness of the soil's
Broke into moss or substances like boils;
Then came some palsied oak, a cleft in him
Like a distorted mouth that splits its rim
Gaping at death, and dies while it recoils.

XXVII.

And just as far as ever from the end!
Nought in the distance but the evening, nought
To point my footstep further! At the thought,
great black bird, Apollyon's bosom-friend,
Sailed past, nor beat his wide wing dragon-penned
That brushed my cap---perchance the guide I sought.

XXVIII.

For, looking up, aware I somehow grew,
'Spite of the dusk, the plain had given place
All round to mountains---with such name to grace
Mere ugly heights and heaps now stolen in view.
How thus they had surprised me,---solve it, you!
How to get from them was no clearer case.

XXIX.

Yet half I seemed to recognize some trick
Of mischief happened to me, God knows when---
In a bad dream perhaps. Here ended, then,
Progress this way. When, in the very nick
Of giving up, one time more, came a click
As when a trap shuts---you're inside the den!

XXX.

Burningly it came on me all at once,
This was the place! those two hills on the right,
Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight;
While to the left, a tall scalped mountain... Dunce,
Dotard, a-dozing at the very nonce,
After a life spent training for the sight!

XXXI.

What in the midst lay but the Tower itself?
The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart,
Built of brown stone, without a counter-part
In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf
Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf
He strikes on, only when the timbers start.

XXXII.

Not see? because of night perhaps?---why, day
Came back again for that! before it left,
The dying sunset kindled through a cleft:
The hills, like giants at a hunting, lay,
Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay,---
``Now stab and end the creature---to the heft!''

XXXIII.

Not hear? when noise was everywhere! it tolled
Increasing like a bell. Names in my ears
Of all the lost adventurers my peers,---
How such a one was strong, and such was bold,
And such was fortunate, yet, each of old
Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.

XXXIV.

There they stood, ranged along the hill-sides, met
To view the last of me, a living frame
For one more picture! in a sheet of flame
I saw them and I knew them all. And yet
Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set,
And blew. ``Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.''

[beachguy in thongs]

Where's the second?

[GHoSToKeR]

and The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet violet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

[beachguy in thongs]

We read that and studied it in 9th grade. A bunch of Poe. Poe memory forgot it.

[buddymyfriend]

Gonna keep this thread going!

THIS LAD I KNOW

There's this lad I know, well he's on smack.
He started off by taking crack,
But before that, well he smoked draw.
And ever since then he's wanted more.

He started stealing to get the stuff
And because of drugs, he's looking rough.
He hasn't even got a friend.
Will his suffering ever end?

Now he's getting really stressed,
His head is pounding, he's very depressed.
He's been in trouble by the police,
Will his addiction ever cease?

Will he ever lead a decent live?
Because he's always in and out of strife.

This is what drugs do to you.
Will you take them?
Do what you want to do!
Nichola Firth

......

Drugs

What are drugs are they that bad?
Do they make you lose everything you once had?
Is it true they make you loose all your teeth?
And they're your only friend when you're out on the streets?

I don't agree with this because it's all shit!
they tell you those thing, you know, the whole "say no to drugs" bit.
I think drugs are good for you in ever way,
Hey look at me, i'm still alive today.

My mom knows I smoke but she doesn't care.
She doesn't even bother,
cause when she tells me to stop it goes in one ear and out the other.
I smoke my heart out every day,
Knowing that I will die someday.

But I do it for a reason,
and that reason is to die.
Because I want to go meet my friend judy up in the sky.
She will be there to open up the gates,
and we will walk hand in hand, and no one will determine our fate.

We'll be together again, just like before,
only this time, we'll have wings to soar.
Up into the heavenly skies we will fly,
without having to do drugs and get high.

So Judy wait for me by the gates,
for soon I will come,
And we will walk through the heavens above,
hand in hand, one by one.

By: Lucy
for: Judy 1981-1997


Peace

Buddy

[StarcommanderX]

message to robert42

uh...poetry is for fags!!!! LIKE YOURSELF!!!! FAGG!!!!!!

now lick my ass! hole!

[buddymyfriend]

message to robert42

uh...poetry is for fags!!!! LIKE YOURSELF!!!! FAGG!!!!!!

now lick my ass! hole!


Run out of herb have we? Feeling stressed? Well heres another poem to sooth the nerves.


Just For Today.........

Goodbye marijauna, cocaine, crack.
I finally got my life on the right track....
I don't need you, and you don't need me,
I feel good about myself. I am free!!
You've been in my life for many years.
You've caused alot of pain and a million tears.
You use to be my lover, My best friend,
But all good things must come to an end!
Its over now between me and you!
I finally found someone new,
I've got God in my life....
And to him I will pray, Please stay with me
Just For today........... written by Tammy Allison

Peace

Buddy

[Urban warrier]

poetry in motion!!!!!!

[buddymyfriend]

The Wrong Answer

She gives herself needles to find her way
Only she doesn't listen to what other people say
When problems get to hard to control
She takes out her needle and goes for a little stroll
She seperated herself from the world and goes away into her land
She shoots up and her problems slip away as she sinks in the quick sand
She wakes up in a white cloud with people all around
She's kinda in a daze her feet aren't touching the ground
She cries for help only the people around don't hear
She hears her mama say come back to us dear
She screams with fear now only they disappear
Her lips are moving now only her own self can't hear
So slipped away because she thought they didn't hear
And now they'll never know what went wrong because she's not here
She thought that a small problem of a boyfriend and beer
Would go away with a needle but all it got was more fear

Susan Danielle Annis

Peace

Buddy

[StarcommanderX]

uh...im not out of herb. so stop making shitty ass comments like that.

[buddymyfriend]

uh...im not out of herb. so stop making shitty ass comments like that.


Chill your boots then bud! If you don't want to contribute then don't. Seeing that your enjoying this thread so much here's another!


*promises unkept

I say to myself "i´ll never take any drugs"
but the more i think of it, i wonder why
Why cant i take drugs, why cant i get high ?
well i know i know the answer " i dont wanna die!"
But i know many people taking crack and coke
the only diffrence is, i only smoke
I know it´s wrong, but i still think it´s okay
i dont know why, i just cant say

[kuulbns]

Hey Ghost! The Poem you quoted; "Childe Roland to the DarkTower Came" By Browning was where Stephen King got the notion to write "The Dark Tower" series. Just thought you might find it to be an interesting bit of trivia.

[GHoSToKeR]

Hey Kuu!

That's how I first heard about the poem and decided to look it up! lol Have you read the DT series yourself?

[kuulbns]

hey Ghost, Yes I have read all of them. One of my all time favorite works by King. :)

[GHoSToKeR]

All of them? Okay well don't give anything away, 'cause i've only read 1-4. :p Just finished reading The Waste Lands yesterday!

But yeah, I think i've got about 50 of King's books, read 20 or so of them, and the DT series are by far the best.. They've gotta be near the top in my favourite works of any author, somewhere just below The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck and just above Catch 22 by Joseph Heller. :D :p How about you?

[robert42]

message to robert42

uh...poetry is for fags!!!! LIKE YOURSELF!!!! FAGG!!!!!!

now lick my ass! hole!

lmao ... you will regret that lol

[buddymyfriend]

lmao ... you will regret that lol

Don't worry about him bro, just hit him with more poetry! :D


My Life

I grew up as a sweet girl,
Sorrowless and sweet.
I was always cute,
Cuddly and neat.
But since the day,
My daddy went away...
My life has changed
In a really big way.
I started taking drugs,
And started smoking too.
I met new friends and all,
I even joined a crew.
My mommy got real worried,
And kept her eye on me.
Cause she always wanted me to be the same...
Young, innocent, and sweet.
I go to late night parties,
And run away from home.
I fell sorry for my mom,
Cause she's left all alone.
She's gotta accept me for who i am,
And what I wanna be.
I always ask myself......
What does she really want me to be?
So live each day to the fullest,
And be what you wanna be.
Remember you don't have much time....
So reveal your true identity.
Don't follow in my footsteps,
Or even look up to me.
Cause I am still not the person
My mother wanted me to be.

written by: Lucy NJ

[beachguy in thongs]

Why would anyone assume you're a fag, Rob?
They didn't see Lucy Liu give that Storm Trooper a blow job.

[robert42]

Why would anyone assume you're a fag, Rob?
They didn't see Lucy Liu give that Storm Trooper a blow job.

exactly i blame the FBI for banning my storm trooper sex tapes part2 but hey what can you say

[pschumach]

Has anyone here read "the book of nightmares" by galway kinnel? In my opinion, every stoner/tripper should read this book :)

It' a long, surreal poem written in ten parts in the 1960s/70s

[grasshopper420]

My Childhood


Non-existant
like a phone number that was never listed
no reason to be optomistic
my minds twisted
for reasons i cant explain
its like somthing alive deep within my veins
i cant shut out the pain
i continue living as though in vain
its consuming
my thoughts build up inside
eating me like cianide
i can run but i cant hide
its a part of me
it makes me want to die
fight it till i cry
fear and pain collide
they take me for a ride
im shocked to realize where im at
i cant belive it took me back
to my childhood

-grass

[beachguy in thongs]

The Four Season
_______________

R-unning through the wildnerness
O-pen fields are near
B-ottomless pits on the horizon
E-veryone stays clear
R-arely do I leak important information
T-oo all a good night.
4- people in my bed.
2- in yours.

[grasshopper420]

The Cutter
in a room full of people i feel so alone
in an endless barren wasteland i feel so trapped
in a world of eternal suffering there is but one escape

i feel the razors bite
i feel the flowing rivulets of blood
i feel the pressure yeilding

its over now
its all so clear
its sedating my soul

he wakes up in a pool of drying blood
that familliar sting on his arms
he thinks to himself "not again"
he tries to remember
what started it all
another hellish eternity
for The Cutter

[Left]

some times when i read poetry i want to slap kittens. i dont really like poetry. unless its to a beat and can commonly be refered to as music or song

[grasshopper420]

kittens??? your an idiot

[beachguy in thongs]

Let's Make A Poem!

Red, Oh, Red, How Red is that.

Your turn.

[Roadking]

THE PANTHER

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars, and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tense, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.

- Rainer Maria Rilke