This thread is about me.

[Tzara]

Which means, of course, it is really about you, the reader. The responder. The person-who-talks-here-to-us. (You know, sometimes I wish I knew German. I could come up with some fun word like wirhiersprechenperson and be done with it right there. Damn English.)

Anyway. This thread is all about you. It's about whatever you want to tell us, about the collective poetivity of Lit, about you. This could be mundane things. For example: My favorite color is blue. (Mine is.) Or something more confessional: Since Eve is spoken for, I want to tie Bijou to a tree and trash her naked ass as red as http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sour_CherryPrunus cerasus. (Uh, yeah. Sorry. Also me, also true.)

See? This is a friendly thread. Kind of a homey place where you barf up all those nasty desires and wishes and hopey things you've been living with for years. Perhaps you are desperately fond of the novels of Ronald Firbank. Hey! That's OK! Tell us about it in embarrassing detail. (To my mind, that could be nothing but embarrassing detail, but it's just my opine.)

It's kinda a coming out thing.

And yeah, some comment like George was always my favorite Beatle is OK too.

Wimpy, but OK.

Carry on.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

--edited--

i think i'll put that in a blog thread instead. it may be TOO confessional for tz's idea...

 

[twelveoone]

Which means, of course, it is really about you, the reader. The responder. The person-who-talks-here-to-us. (You know, sometimes I wish I knew German. I could come up with some fun word like wirhiersprechenperson and be done with it right there. Damn English.)

Anyway. This thread is all about you. It's about whatever you want to tell us, about the collective poetivity of Lit, about you. This could be mundane things. For example: My favorite color is blue. (Mine is.) Or something more confessional: Since Eve is spoken for, I want to tie Bijou to a tree and trash her naked ass as red as http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sour_CherryPrunus cerasus. (Uh, yeah. Sorry. Also me, also true.)

See? This is a friendly thread. Kind of a homey place where you barf up all those nasty desires and wishes and hopey things you've been living with for years. Perhaps you are desperately fond of the novels of Ronald Firbank. Hey! That's OK! Tell us about it in embarrassing detail. (To my mind, that could be nothing but embarrassing detail, but it's just my opine.)

It's kinda a coming out thing.

And yeah, some comment like George was always my favorite Beatle is OK too.

Wimpy, but OK.

Carry on.

Schwanzkopf
wrong! BTW he was an Amercan general in Iraq.
Who spoke for Eve?
My favourite colour ist Prussian Blue.
Tzara, hold the whip firmly and leave a little welt for me.
I was the eighth Beatle, too many damn fifths.

 

[Paris_Garters]

Since it's Halloween, I am wondering if people in here ever write scary poems. Not the serious philosophical kind, but more like ghost-story scary.

My confession is: I try to read good books but sometimes I go for those trashy horror novels by John Saul and people like that. That's what got me thinking about scary poetry.

 

[Angeline]

Since it's Halloween, I am wondering if people in here ever write scary poems. Not the serious philosophical kind, but more like ghost-story scary.

My confession is: I try to read good books but sometimes I go for those trashy horror novels by John Saul and people like that. That's what got me thinking about scary poetry.

Yes, I have. We had a contest for the very sort of thing you're describing a few years ago. Let me find one of my entries. Found it! One of my favorite poems ever and based on Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House. It's a dramatic monologue, a form I've always loved.

Hill House Speaks

Every day she comes. That common woman
and her idiot consort drive to me.
She wraps herself in respectability
holds it close as if it were a wimple.
She weilds her feather dusters like a cross.

That scrawny twilight-fearing bitch!
As if I couldn't chew her up, as if
I couldn't suck her sinew, crack her bones,
that witch. I'd lick her marrow from the fingers
of these walls and do it all
in bright sunshine!

No one will help you.
No one indeed!

Eighty years gone by. I stand alone,
a haughty dowager, stiff-necked, aloof
upon this hill as seasons turn
and years churn with the spinning leaves.
Cars drive by so rarely on the road below,
almost never veering in to cross my iron gate.

No one comes but her and him.
No one comes. I wait,

Oh once they brought an agent,
some old silly frilly thing, Louise,
whose step became less sure
when only echoes of her shoes
tapped down the bones of my chill halls.

She peeked into the nursery
there where old Hugh's daughter lived
and died. She barely left the bed. She was
a dried and bitter waxen thing,
And so I had some fun.

(I made Hugh's daughter kill
the governess you know, so many
many years ago, drove her insane
with curses, pleas, and lies
until she climbed those iron stairs in tears,
a rope around her neck, you see?
She hung it from that hook. She jumped
right there. She died.)

Well, when Louise peeped in,
I smelt her, hungered for her fears,
and so I gave those stairs
a little creak and spin and said

Looooooo-eeeeezzze

as if I lived inside the wind
or maybe in her head, and then
I laughed and bit a ruffle
from her dress before she ran.

Don't I deserve some fun?

It's lonely on this hill,
but now we've got this one,
the one who came with you.
She's not apt to leave.
She seems intrigued by us,
and so are we by her.

She's pretty. Old Hugh says
he wants to waltz with her, hold her
tight in delightful, breathless dance.

So you go back to town old crone.
Take your feather dusters
and your loutish husband, too,
but leave the girl.

Go back to town old crone.
Don't worry that she'll walk alone.
She never had a chance.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

I sometimes pray for people I don't know. I don't even know if I'm religious. I don't think I am. I think it is just habit, but I'm wishy washy enough to think it can't hurt anyway. And not over anything serious but over silly things like: Please God, let that little boy find his glasses, or Please God, keep that lady's cat out of the damn street.

Ringo is my favorite Beatle. I'm not saying why because that would be too personal.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

I am insanely, ridiculously hot for Robert Montgomery . The lengths I would go to to get with that would shock Satan himself.

bj

here's more
and some more

and a bit more

 

[annaswirls]

I am insanely, ridiculously hot for Robert Montgomery . The lengths I would go to to get with that would shock Satan himself.

counting minutes until someone changes his AV.....

 

[Paris_Garters]

That is amazingly creepy! I'm attempting some scary stuff but it's not very good yet. I love that movie too, and the book was hair-raising. Thanks!

Yes, I have. We had a contest for the very sort of thing you're describing a few years ago. Let me find one of my entries. Found it! One of my favorite poems ever and based on Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House. It's a dramatic monologue, a form I've always loved.

Hill House Speaks

Every day she comes. That common woman
and her idiot consort drive to me.
She wraps herself in respectability
holds it close as if it were a wimple.
She weilds her feather dusters like a cross.

That scrawny twilight-fearing bitch!
As if I couldn't chew her up, as if
I couldn't suck her sinew, crack her bones,
that witch. I'd lick her marrow from the fingers
of these walls and do it all
in bright sunshine!

No one will help you.
No one indeed!

Eighty years gone by. I stand alone,
a haughty dowager, stiff-necked, aloof
upon this hill as seasons turn
and years churn with the spinning leaves.
Cars drive by so rarely on the road below,
almost never veering in to cross my iron gate.

No one comes but her and him.
No one comes. I wait,

Oh once they brought an agent,
some old silly frilly thing, Louise,
whose step became less sure
when only echoes of her shoes
tapped down the bones of my chill halls.

She peeked into the nursery
there where old Hugh's daughter lived
and died. She barely left the bed. She was
a dried and bitter waxen thing,
And so I had some fun.

(I made Hugh's daughter kill
the governess you know, so many
many years ago, drove her insane
with curses, pleas, and lies
until she climbed those iron stairs in tears,
a rope around her neck, you see?
She hung it from that hook. She jumped
right there. She died.)

Well, when Louise peeped in,
I smelt her, hungered for her fears,
and so I gave those stairs
a little creak and spin and said

Looooooo-eeeeezzze

as if I lived inside the wind
or maybe in her head, and then
I laughed and bit a ruffle
from her dress before she ran.

Don't I deserve some fun?

It's lonely on this hill,
but now we've got this one,
the one who came with you.
She's not apt to leave.
She seems intrigued by us,
and so are we by her.

She's pretty. Old Hugh says
he wants to waltz with her, hold her
tight in delightful, breathless dance.

So you go back to town old crone.
Take your feather dusters
and your loutish husband, too,
but leave the girl.

Go back to town old crone.
Don't worry that she'll walk alone.
She never had a chance.

 

[Angeline]

That is amazingly creepy! I'm attempting some scary stuff but it's not very good yet. I love that movie too, and the book was hair-raising. Thanks!

That movie, The Haunting, the original one with Claire Bloom and Julie Harris, is my all-time favorite scary movie. The scenes where the walls are breathing just oooh give me shivers!

I'd love to revisit some of the other poems that were written for that challenge. Champagne had a great one that she even submitted to the halloween story contest (it was a loooong poem). I had another one based on Masque of the Red Death that I love and of course can't find now. Eve might have a copy of it.

I think dramatic monologues work really well with the ghost story genre.

 

[Tzara]

counting minutes until someone changes his AV.....

Are you suggesting that if I change my avatar to Robert Montgomery I might somehow entice the delectable Bijou to—what was her exact phrase?—be "insanely, ridiculously hot" for me?

Geez, that sounds like a no-brainer, even on the better than even chance of zero payoff. I'd better go rip off a picture.



And I was so happy with The Donald.

 

[champagne1982]

That movie, The Haunting, the original one with Claire Bloom and Julie Harris, is my all-time favorite scary movie. The scenes where the walls are breathing just oooh give me shivers!

I'd love to revisit some of the other poems that were written for that challenge. Champagne had a great one that she even submitted to the halloween story contest (it was a loooong poem). I had another one based on Masque of the Red Death that I love and of course can't find now. Eve might have a copy of it.

I think dramatic monologues work really well with the ghost story genre.

Hallowe'en Bill must be the one you're thinking of.

and it still didn't get enough votes to qualify for the contest. Imagine! A poem with less than 25 votes.

In keeping with the thread direction... Do I have to like (love) one Beatle? Like group sex, they can never be enjoyed alone.

 

[The_Fool]

That movie, The Haunting, the original one with Claire Bloom and Julie Harris, is my all-time favorite scary movie. The scenes where the walls are breathing just oooh give me shivers!

I'd love to revisit some of the other poems that were written for that challenge. Champagne had a great one that she even submitted to the halloween story contest (it was a loooong poem). I had another one based on Masque of the Red Death that I love and of course can't find now. Eve might have a copy of it.

I think dramatic monologues work really well with the ghost story genre.

I had one that I liked too, I wonder what I did with it...

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Are you suggesting that if I change my avatar to Robert Montgomery I might somehow entice the delectable Bijou to—what was her exact phrase?—be "insanely, ridiculously hot" for me?

Geez, that sounds like a no-brainer, even on the better than even chance of zero payoff. I'd better go rip off a picture.



And I was so happy with The Donald.

I think I'm entirely overseduced by this whole crowd already, thank you. How can I get any work done when I'm living with two dozen mad crushes on an entire village full of people I'm unlikely to ever meet? Have mercy, I'm beggin ya. You ALL need to put a little effort into being less brilliant and attractive.

Please. For me.

bijou

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I went to see the Exorcist and saw more of the floor than the film then had to sleep with the lights on for weeks. I was in the WRAF at the time and it didn't do much for my street cred.
I have been married three times (I love a good divorce party) my favourite colour changes with the mood very fond of green but red is good too. I just did a test as to what sort of animal I would be and it came out as Alligator sooooooo who writes this crap? I run quizzes on the internet just fun stuff attended by mad people bit like myself really. I have a stalker on the net ..sheeeeesh why do I attract the attention of wierd people just don't understand it at all.

 

[Tathagata]

That movie, The Haunting, the original one with Claire Bloom and Julie Harris, is my all-time favorite scary movie. The scenes where the walls are breathing just oooh give me shivers!

I'd love to revisit some of the other poems that were written for that challenge. Champagne had a great one that she even submitted to the halloween story contest (it was a loooong poem). I had another one based on Masque of the Red Death that I love and of course can't find now. Eve might have a copy of it.

I think dramatic monologues work really well with the ghost story genre.

I was/am a Universal Monster Movie fan
I'd stay up late when I was in elementary school to catch all the old classics with Karloff, Lugosi, Price etc.

I am still amazed at the old silent Lon Chaney movies.
For a brief time there I wanted to be a movie make up artist.
My father told me I was nuts and so I gave up on it....right before all the new experimental make up came to the forefront.
That'll learn me.

I still watch the old ones anytime they are on.
The scene ( which was originally cut) from Karloff's Frankenstein where he throws the little girl in the lake and then panics when she doesn't float still gives me goose bumps.

When we went to Universal Studios the only reason I went on the tour was to see all those old back lots where all those movies were filmed.
It was an eerie feeling seeing the old village square, and side street that I saw in so many movies
I think they are all gone now.


I like John
I had Beatle boots


Ps: I don't know if you've ever seen or heard about this Tzara
but the original " Dracula" with Lugosi had no soundtrack, A few years ago they had non other than our old friend Philip Glass score the movie, I only saw it once and managed to get it on VHS..the effect was mixed...but over all it fit very well I thought

 

[Angeline]

I was/am a Universal Monster Movie fan
I'd stay up late when I was in elementary school to catch all the old classics with Karloff, Lugosi, Price etc.

I am still amazed at the old silent Lon Chaney movies.
For a brief time there I wanted to be a movie make up artist.
My father told me I was nuts and so I gave up on it....right before all the new experimental make up came to the forefront.
That'll learn me.

I still watch the old ones anytime they are on.
The scene ( which was originally cut) from Karloff's Frankenstein where he throws the little girl in the lake and then panics when she doesn't float still gives me goose bumps.

When we went to Universal Studios the only reason I went on the tour was to see all those old back lots where all those movies were filmed.
It was an eerie feeling seeing the old village square, and side street that I saw in so many movies
I think they are all gone now.


I like John
I had Beatle boots

Hi you. Tonight's the night, eh?

I would have figured you for a Universal Studies monster movies kinda guy. But you're right that the old silent horror films and the original Frankenstein with Karloff (as well as the Dracula with Lugosi) have a very artsy noir feel. The other, later films were too campy to scare me. I think the scariest film I saw, besides The Haunting, was The Bad Seed, with that murderous little girl. Have you seen it?

I loved Ringo at first. Then it was Winston O'Boogie all the way.

 

[Tathagata]

Hi you. Tonight's the night, eh?

I would have figured you for a Universal Studies monster movies kinda guy. But you're right that the old silent horror films and the original Frankenstein with Karloff (as well as the Dracula with Lugosi) have a very artsy noir feel. The other, later films were too campy to scare me. I think the scariest film I saw, besides The Haunting, was The Bad Seed, with that murderous little girl. Have you seen it?

I loved Ringo at first. Then it was Winston O'Boogie all the way.

Tis indeed
here we go


I had the original Aurora Monster Model kits ( glow in the dark parts too......extra spooky)

The last movie I saw that scared me was. I believe, " The Grudge" ( or one of its spin offs.
A Japanese movie that I started watching one night when I had insomnia...the visual effects were so disturbing I shut it off after about 1/2 hour
I never finished watching it

I still think Paul is one of the greatest bass players ever...if he'd only shut and play


btw
There a Herbie Hancock documentary playing on some channel called " Herbie Hancock: Possibilities, about the making of that album, be worth you checking out


Go Sox

 

[champagne1982]

I like John
I had Beatle boots

I loved Ringo at first. Then it was Winston O'Boogie all the way.

You people have never had group sex either, huh?...

I was only parroting what I'd been told when I used the analogy, really. I'm an angel.

 

[Angeline]

You people have never had group sex either, huh?...

I was only parroting what I'd been told when I used the analogy, really. I'm an angel.

You're an effervescent angel.

I had group sex with The Beatles and the Star Trek crew. Really. In stories I wrote.

And no they will never again see the light of day.

 

[champagne1982]

You're an effervescent angel.

I had group sex with The Beatles and the Star Trek crew. Really. In stories I wrote.

And no they will never again see the light of day.

Tease.

 

[Tathagata]

Closest I came to group sex was watching a Veronica Hart film while getting a blow job
Does that count?

 

[Angeline]

Tease.

Honestly, me doing Dr. McCoy is less embarrassing than the writing.

 

[Tzara]

I cry at movies. If there's anything vaguely sad or uplifting up there on the big screen, however phonily acted or artificially staged, I tear up. The nose gets so congested I can't breathe and my eyes sting. Then I'm stuck trying to discreetly dry my eyes with butter-stained popcorn fingers and the salt that gets rubbed into the corners of my eyes just makes things worse. I think it's osmosis or something.

And don't even mention the big-time tear-jerkers. I mean, I bawled when Spock died, fer Gawd's sake, so I practically go into cardiac arrest at It's a Wonderful Life or To Kill a Mockingbird. They are not allowed in my house. Liable to induce life-threatening levels of histamine.

As for group sex? Only if my multiple personalities count.



PS to Tath: I have a CD of Glass's soundtrack for Dracula, though I haven't seen the movie version that uses it. Way scarier, though, was the Giorgio Moroder pop music version of Fritz Lang's Metropolis. I still have nightmares from that one.

 

[champagne1982]

Honestly, me doing Dr. McCoy is less embarrassing than the writing.

I'm a doctor not a magician Spock! Get your half-Vulcan copperblooded penis out of Nurse Chapel and let someone else have a go.