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Poetry


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#1 poopscootsMcgee

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 04:22 AM

content removed.

Edited by poopscootsMcgee, 28 July 2015 - 02:16 PM.


#2 The Talentless

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 11:35 AM

That was a shining example of literary excellence. Did you write it? It's really good.

View Postexogen, on Aug 25 2011, 04:45 PM, said:

Really I am jacks dick.

#3 Mom

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 01:29 PM

I would pay

to get that printed

out

on canvas

to hang

on

my wall

#4 poopscootsMcgee

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 03:58 PM

i did and thank you. i encourage you all to post any poetry you find good and or like that you have written and or read

Edited by Zoa, 10 May 2012 - 03:58 PM.


#5 SUMERIAN BLOOD GOD

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 06:03 PM

Kissing and Horrid Strife


I have been defeated and dragged down by pain

and worsted by the evil world-soul of today.


But still I know that life is for delight

and for bliss

as now when the tiny wavelets of the sea

tip the morning light on edge, and spill it with delight

to show how inexhaustible it is:


And life is for delight, and bliss

like now when the white sun kisses the sea

and plays with the wavelets like a panther playing with its cubs

cuffing them with soft paws,

and blows that are caresses,

kisses of the soft-balled paws, where the talons are.


And life is for dread,

for doom that darkens, and the Sunderers

that sunder us from each other,

that strip us and destroy us and break us down

as the tall foxgloves and the mulleins and mallows

are torn down by dismembering autumn

till not a vestige is left, and black winter has no trace

of any such flowers;

and yet the roots below the blackness are intact:

the Thunderers and the Sunderers have their term,

their limit, their thus far and no further.


Life is for kissing and for horrid strife.

Life is for the angels and the Sunderers.

Life is for the daimons and the demons,

those that put honey on our lips, and those that put salt.

But life is not

for the dead vanity of knowing better, nor the blank

cold comfort of superiority, nor silly

conceit of being immune,

nor puerility of contradictions

like saying snow is black, or desire is evil.


Life is for kissing and for horrid strife,

the angels and the Sunderers.

And perhaps in unknown Death we perhaps shall know

Oneness and poised immunity.

But why then should we die while we can live ?

And while we live

the kissing and communing cannot cease

nor yet the striving and the horrid strife.


-D.H. Lawrence

Posted Image

View PostPenguin Deus, on May 9 2010, 07:13 PM, said:

I bet part of the outcome would be unimaginable amounts of women being both pregnant and dead simultaneously.

Penguin Deus said:

I was looking at ice cream and thinking about Gucci Mane.

View PostJackson, on 06 November 2013 - 01:26 PM, said:

Ninety is extremely tsundere.


#6 Bakuhatsu Pengin

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 06:42 PM

nob loves his limericks
much more than he loves dicks
although if you ask
about his flesh mast
hed probably flash his fish stick

- ee cummings

Posted Image


#7 Mom

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 08:41 PM

I take the shit to defeat my enemy
he stares into my crack with ever-waning confidence
the shit of the gods awaits his helpless cry
the proverbial bunker buster to his porcelain skin

I take the shit to defeat his morale
I take the shit to free mankind
the shit that will leave no stone unturned
the shit to end all wars

I take the shit to free me of my sin
the shit that will resolve life itself
my inevitable trump card
to conquer all that stand before me

I ready my cheeks and push with passion
its mighty weight trembles the ground below
the shit that left the earth in shambles
I took it and have plenty more

Edited by Twisted Metal, 10 May 2012 - 11:45 PM.


#8 poopscootsMcgee

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 11:18 PM

In a Station of the Metro

The apparition of these faces in the crowd ;

Petals on a wet, black bough.



— Ezra Pound


interesting that it has no verbs

hey tm i like your poem but it is very mysterious?

also

noob you fail at limerick. i dont think that one really rhymes. example:

i once knew an old gash named joan
in bed she would twist and moan
until one dark night
i gave her a fright
and had her fucked by a huge black samoan

Edited by Zoa, 10 May 2012 - 11:28 PM.


#9 SUMERIAN BLOOD GOD

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 11:37 PM

There once was a man from Nantucket
Whose dick was so long he could suck it.
And he said with a grin
As he wiped off his chin,
"If my ear were a cunt, I would fuck it."


That is the only limerick I know.

Posted Image

View PostPenguin Deus, on May 9 2010, 07:13 PM, said:

I bet part of the outcome would be unimaginable amounts of women being both pregnant and dead simultaneously.

Penguin Deus said:

I was looking at ice cream and thinking about Gucci Mane.

View PostJackson, on 06 November 2013 - 01:26 PM, said:

Ninety is extremely tsundere.


#10 The Talentless

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 11:38 PM

The only poetry I've ever enjoyed was my Father's poetry. I don't remember all of the verses from the two he wrote in sharpie on the basement walls, though, at the moment. I'll get back to you on that.

View Postexogen, on Aug 25 2011, 04:45 PM, said:

Really I am jacks dick.

#11 Mom

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 11:47 PM

Yes, very mysterious. It strikes the deepest recesses of your mind with immense power.

#12 poopscootsMcgee

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Posted 10 May 2012 - 11:54 PM

like a 'a thing' ricocheting around in
'the space'

i bet that guy had already tried fucking his own ear

#13 Bakuhatsu Pengin

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Posted 11 May 2012 - 12:43 AM

dont hate on ee cummings yo

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#14 YUNG MASTERLESS GLENCOUR

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Posted 11 May 2012 - 10:17 AM

EE Cummings is someone I never totally understood. Admittedly I have that problem with a lot of poetry. I remember a girl I was dating gave me a card with a Cummings poem on it and I still do this day don't get what the poem meant. I just assumed it meant she wanted to bone me. All's well that ends well, I guess.

View PostTwisted Metal, on 10 May 2012 - 08:41 PM, said:

I ready my cheeks and push with passion

Pretty sure Frost couldn't hope to match the intensity of your prose

Fanfic: The Return of Owen, A Cold Day in Hell, Armored Core: Hachi-No-Ki , why i hate acu
[SoD]

View PostBakuhatsu Pengin, on 15 December 2016 - 04:53 AM, said:

TALL AND TAN AND YUNG AND LOVELY


#15 Mom

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Posted 11 May 2012 - 05:27 PM

I sit on my porcelain throne whenever I see fit
I am JESUS, the king of ferocious shit
I strike down my enemies with effortless dumps
With the intense pressure of a hundred lumps
Bow down before me or I'll strike you down
And the last thing you'll see will be my squat and frown

#16 poopscootsMcgee

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Posted 12 May 2012 - 05:21 PM

content removed.

Edited by poopscootsMcgee, 28 July 2015 - 02:16 PM.


#17 poopscootsMcgee

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Posted 23 May 2012 - 01:34 PM

content removed.

Edited by poopscootsMcgee, 28 July 2015 - 02:17 PM.


#18 KORTOKtheSTRONG

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Posted 21 June 2012 - 12:47 PM

The Shark

Replace "replace" with SHARK

SHARK "with" with SHARK

SHARK "SHARK" SHARK SHARK
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#19 Hust1er

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Posted 22 July 2012 - 12:44 AM

A beauty never to be seen
Like a sunrise with clouds
Or a night-time sky without stars
Like a bird in the morning
Without a voice
A broken heart
Is an endless choice....
___
Growing old
And living for
The moment your
Searching for
something you cannot find
The truth inside
The reason we are
All living for.
___
Something strange in me
I feel the same for you
But there is no difference
We’re still alone
There is no me
In crying
There is no me
In dieing
You’ve stolen my heart
And trapped my mind
But it makes no difference
I'm still alone.
___
Your eyes
Tell the stories
Of the day you wish
You could
Recall the moments
Or at least
Retract the footsteps
That brought us to this end...

___
Yesterday yet forgotten
buried in my thoughts
served as a lesson taught
Tomorrow it shall not

Life is remembered
as taken is our last breathe
my mind comes to settle
the balance to life...is death.

Edited by Hust1er, 23 July 2012 - 10:52 PM.


#20 poopscootsMcgee

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Posted 02 October 2012 - 06:05 PM

“I Had a Man”
By Dorothea Lasky
Today when I was walking
I had a man tell me as he passed
That I was a white bitch (he was white)
And to not look at him
Or he was going to ‘fuck me in my little butthole’
I wandered away
Who is to say
I think I am a white bitch
My butt is big
But I believe my butthole is little
This violence that we put on women
I don’t think it’s crazy
Someone I know said
‘Oh, that man was crazy’
I don’t think he was crazy
Maybe he could tell I had a look in my eye
That wasn’t crazy anymore
Maybe he could feel the wild cool blood in me
And it frightened him
And he lashed out in fear
Maybe he knew I was the same as him
But had been born with this kind face and eyes
Doughlike appurtenances
What about the day I left
What happened then
Still I’m glad he said that to me
Still I’m glad he was so cruel to me
What bitter eye knew I had a voice
To say what men have done to me
What unkind wind has blown thru my brain
To make me speak for the wretched
To speak wretchedly about the ugly
To make my own face ugly and simple
To contort this simple smile into a haunting song





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