Title fuckityblah

[Liar]

Ok... so now what? I have this poem see... and it's a goodie poem see, if I dare say. I never know what the readers think is good, but to me, it's the goodiest I've written.

But it needs a title, see? And for the love of all things holy, everyrthing I come up with sounds like donkey balls to me.

Even been there, with a poem all ripe and dome, but unable to tag a decent title to it?

Groan.

#L

 

[perks]

I love frosting, the frosting is the icing on the cake, you know.

They're my favorite part, when they're witty.


let me take a crack at it? please please please...

you could call it

Perky is the gunslinger with the bestest nipples ever

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Post the damned thing and let us have a look at it.

 

[Liar]

I love frosting, the frosting is the icing on the cake, you know.

They're my favorite part, when they're witty.


let me take a crack at it? please please please...

you could call it

Perky is the gunslinger with the bestest nipples ever

I reeeally don't think you want that title on this poem. I'll tell you what, if I let you at the cause of my writer's, and you come up with a title, I'll write you a 'Perky is the gunslinger with the bestest nipples ever' poem.

I think that title will be cropped by Lit though.

#L

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Even been there, with a poem all ripe and dome, but unable to tag a decent title to it?

Yes. Last time that happened I just quoted the first line. *shrugs*

"I tremble..."

 

[perks]

I reeeally don't think you want that title on this poem. I'll tell you what, if I let you at the cause of my writer's, and you come up with a title, I'll write you a 'Perky is the gunslinger with the bestest nipples ever' poem.

I think that title will be cropped by Lit though.

#L

*laughing* that would be sweet, but I'll do it for free. But don't think I'm getting soft on you, cowboy. Wednesday, it's on, whether I'm sober or not.

 

[perks]

Re: Re: Title fuckityblah

Yes. Last time that happened I just quoted the first line. *shrugs*

"I tremble..."

*shivers*

 

[Liar]

Here's the thing. I refuse to call it "Untitled".



Ready for smash and grab
hyper reality on the threshold
of a treasure chamber,
he hesitated.

It wasn't real, a hammered jigsaw piece.
And when he closed his eyes, he couldn't feel.

Ready for remorse inverted,
self justified urban myths,
late night fuelled carnal delusions,
he breathed.

It wasn't love, it was Science Fiction
Mindbending perspectives for the soulless.

As he contemplated pearls for swine
through too much wasted wine
and bothered to look,
to listen for real this time.

Ready for hyper insanity
on the threshold of disaster
he remembered,
stared into the face of terror,

and crumbled, fell
weeping apologies into her hair.
Damned his stupidity
to heaven and hell.

And the threshold
of a treasure chamber
of hyper insanity

was crossed,
defiled once again.
But not there,
not then.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Here's the thing. I refuse to call it "Untitled".

You know, it may just be this week we're living, but I read the poem three times and couldn't get my mind off hyperpoetics.

You're right, though. It's a damned goodie poem.

 

[Liar]

You know, it may just be this week we're living, but I read the poem three times and couldn't get my mind off hyperpoetics.

Hyper is a good word, your challenge made me look for places to use it, which sparked the inspiration to get this story into a poem. So, kudos.

 

[The Mutt]

I think Ready for Smash would be an apt title.