The poetry forum needs more political threads...

There was once a Wingnut from the GeeBee
Who thought he could write witty sonnetry
Admittedly like being roughed up
He huffed and he puffed
Mouth breathing makes for good erotic poetry
 
There was once a Wingnut from the GeeBee
Who thought he could write witty sonnetry
Admittedly like being roughed up
He huffed and he puffed
Mouth breathing makes for good erotic poetry

Take that shite poem
back to the poetry board
its where it belongs
 
I think this is a great idea. There are days when the poetry board is so slow the front page grows coral. Don't worry about forms.

Just break the lines
into some kind of poemy looking
lengths and forget punctuation
and capital letters

everybody wants to hear
about your girlfriends pussy
 
PF&D Or Bust


Fly away with me from the GeeBee
My little pinging Moonbat
I will show you where real poetry is at
And you can delight us with your singing
Fill our ears with dull ringing
Sonar, so good
Just watch out for that cell tower
Splat

Ooooops
 
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PF&D Or Bust


Fly away with me
My little pinging Moonbat
I will show you where real poetry is at
And you can delight us with your singing
Fill our ears with dull ringing
Sonar, so good
Just watch out for that cell tower
Splat

Ooooops

dude, that sucked. You wouldn't know real poetry if EE Cummings fucked you sideways with a barbed wire dildo.
 
I think this is a great idea. There are days when the poetry board is so slow the front page grows coral. Don't worry about forms.

Just break the lines
into some kind of poemy looking
lengths and forget punctuation
and capital letters

everybody wants to hear
about your girlfriends pussy

my girlfriend
her pussy is made out of gold...

hard as a rock, and dry like the Mojave.
 
I think this is a great idea. There are days when the poetry board is so slow the front page grows coral. Don't worry about forms.

Just break the lines
into some kind of poemy looking
lengths and forget punctuation
and capital letters

everybody wants to hear
about your girlfriends pussy

Damn

That is a DEAD ON Magnetron. Have you considered publishing a volume of poems?
 
There was once a Wingnut from the GeeBee
Who thought he could write witty sonnetry
Admittedly like being roughed up
He huffed and he puffed
Mouth breathing makes for good erotic poetry
The meter isn't even right.
 
You Sank My Partisan Ship


Moonbat, Moonbat
Where are you at?
Hanging upside down in your cave
Shitting yourself
While the Arctic shelf
Continues to melt and break apart
From the methane brain fart
That is your blathering self
 
Which format are you going to use?

Sonnet?

Haiku?

Triolet?

Thinking I was

of random noise

words placed with

politics invoked, harsh abandon

cacophony of privilege with

no reason, no rhyme.

space filled, occupied

like a metaphor with no simile there are

words on page

meaningless

Magnetron at his best.
 
You Sank My Partisan Ship


Moonbat, Moonbat
Where are you at?
Hanging upside down in your cave
Shitting yourself
While the Arctic shelf
Continues to melt and break apart
From the methane brain fart
That is your blathering self

That's so bad, that I'm going to go and vote all of your poems 1 star.

Thinking I was

of random noise

words placed with

politics invoked, harsh abandon

cacophony of privilege with

no reason, no rhyme.

space filled, occupied

like a metaphor with no simile there are

words on page

meaningless

Magnetron at his best.

The funny thing is, that without trying, you just wrote something better than any of the poetry that magnetron has penned.
 
You Sank My Partisan Ship


Moonbat, Moonbat
Where are you at?
Hanging upside down in your cave
Shitting yourself
While the Arctic shelf
Continues to melt and break apart
From the methane brain fart
That is your blathering self

Uh, dip-shit?

Climate Continues to Change was excluded by name from on high as political.
 
That's so bad, that I'm going to go and vote all of your poems 1 star.



The funny thing is, that without trying, you just wrote something better than any of the poetry that magnetron has penned.

Well, here-to-fore, modesty has prevented me from mentioning that I was the 3rd grade Haiku champion by universal acclaim in the astonishingly lovely Ms. Van Geon's class.

I was also the 6th grade sentence diagramming champ all the way across the country in matronly Mrs' Eller's class.

Quixotic bent

thought I to have

dashed and crashed

windmills and words

ere I met Mag

of lance so small

close work it suits​
 
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