Absolutely Fucking Reality

twelveoone

ground zero
Joined
Mar 13, 2004
Posts
5,882
er, this is two poems (to escape the mod sweepers)

As you should see it

I am fucking awesome
I will hurt your eyes

Bumper Sticker
eat retread baby
byeeeeeeeeeeee
 
Well since I believe 1201 knows and is using the actual meaning of awe, and we have no idea of the visage presented by 1201, awesome may be appropriate. :eek:
 
Well since I believe 1201 knows and is using the actual meaning of awe, and we have no idea of the visage presented by 1201, awesome may be appropriate. :eek:
Tod's works, however too direct
L2 does not match L1, and I have been erroneously been noted for sarcasm.
 
Ok first poem hurts my eyes....

The I at the start can cross over for either line and I can be eye so you have a play on sound and a physical connection that literally hurts, kinda wish I hadn't stared at it for 30 seconds!
 
The byeeeeeee in the second has the drawn out e sound that squeals like a tyre and kinda looks like a tyre tread, clever. Or I'm just making shit up .........
 
The byeeeeeee in the second has the drawn out e sound that squeals like a tyre and kinda looks like a tyre tread, clever. Or I'm just making shit up .........

stage direction *nods*

there're things to be seen
that many won't;
imagination's a powerful tool
 
The byeeeeeee in the second has the drawn out e sound that squeals like a tyre and kinda looks like a tyre tread, clever. Or I'm just making shit up .........
to paraphrase something I been saying for years...
the shit that you make up
is the shit you can apply
to make poetic roses bloom
just don't get it in your eye
 
to paraphrase something I been saying for years...
the shit that you make up
is the shit you can apply
to make poetic roses bloom
just don't get it in your eye

there's probably a thread for that over on the fetish forum
 
some mirrors reveal more than others

some are fairground distortions
and some
well
some have broken glass
 
some mirrors reveal more than others

some are fairground distortions
and some
well
some have broken glass
have < just are?
title sucks
Cracked

re: an' shit
Do you mean the Diarrhea is the River of Life faction?
 
have < just are?
title sucks
Cracked

re: an' shit
Do you mean the Diarrhea is the River of Life faction?
oops, there wasn't a title... that was justa passin' thought.

have < just are? you might be write.

cracked - yeah, that works


Fluency in Effluence - or The Importance of being Honest
The Impotence of being Earnest?
 
Hash sheesh!
Ash sheesh?

the world looks better
without your sweeter
O multinippledqueen
pierced and inlaid nice
with sundry mood rings
now bendoverbabe
your buttocks sings
a tune of forgetfullness
makes me forget
with its Lethe
goodolewhatshername
of last week
 
Sometimes I get tired of this,
this poetry all remiss.
I long for the simpler days
of Prosy O'Donnell's hits
and Emp having his shit fits.


And if the shoe fits, wipe it, and if it don't your feet are bare
and if the card fits, swipe it, and I'll pretend that I really care
but I don't really, otherwise I'd write something sane
and post it as stuffed fucktung fodder for the beloved inane

two lines really, the ultimate
bumper sticker kiss

asses pass
crack whips
 
creosote moat
sticky float
pine apple flap jack's
a lucky boy, but then
there's not much call for boys
and a decided lack of men(.)

I'm out can you spare another?
 
Karma dogs me like an unpaid bogus bill
but still, the weather of late has been like an atoll
to me in a sea of ugly, that is life,
an unfirm footing to view the unfettered sky,
the clouds of myriad hopes; the sun not yet set
but in its glory enough to warm a komodo's hide.
I would laugh, but laughter alone, sounds
as from a steel drum, untuned at that.
When is the next scheduled test?
 
...and on the brighter side, a flash

Karma dogs me like an unpaid bogus bill
but still, weather's of late has been as atoll
to me in seas of ugly, that is life,
on unfirm foot for view of unfettered sky,
its clouds of myriad hopes; a sun not yet set
but in its glory enough to warm a komodo's hide.
I would laugh, but laughter alone, sounds
as from steel drums, untuned at best.

When is the next scheduled test?

Here come those waves again,
the ship's anchor no longer holds
its spot, its shot, capsized,
the human cargo discharged.
Let the waves inundate
this empty road,
from these dark harbours.
Dry eyed to the sky
I slip into a prayer to a god

of instant black.

Give us this day, our umbrage,
my daily lack.


A komodo
sits on safer ground
closes its eyes -
immune,

in the sinking of the triune,
a lone one of the three.
 
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