Poetry #too.

When yer bored yer DEAD
cuz there's nothing good
floatin' in yer head

Don't MIND yer own buisness
cuz everything's worth knowing
just let in all unwind

So I like BLEEDING all my thoughts
making red stains on everything clean
but there's no need to clean it all up

skies coal black
saucers fly in overdrive
a shocking sight
makes me feel so alive

those crazy old cops think i'm mad
completely out-of-my-mind insane
and all those chances they had
to sit there and pick my brain

And where are Syd Barrett's bones?

I see him in the sky!

Looking down on me, saying goodbye.

This is about the Electric Kool Aid Acid Test, an amazing book if I do say so myself.

a 3 AM haiku:

crayons for my head
a beam of light makes way through the clouds
my back breaks

I'm not in the rhyming business myself, but here's something I wrote for a school project  ages ago:

If you tell me you love school,
I will say you are a fool
Our school is like a jail
Where you lose and where you fail.

BTW our school was informally called "The Bastille".

Blah blah blah, etc.

Here's a snippet of a yet unwritten epic poem titled "A Yet Unwritten Epic Poem."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the swamp we gathered
a pick-axe and three rocks
inside a wooden box
that was really battered

Two of the rocks were black
one of the rocks was green
we thought it rarely seen
but put all the rocks back

The pick-axe was yellow
and that we took along
to our hot-air balloon
the wind was still mellow

The floor of our balloon
sure needed hoovering
for it kept on filling
with dust brought by monsoon

So we took our hoovers
and started hoovering
and though it was tiring
we kept on our bloomers

Of course we saw nymphs too
dancing in a circle
chewing on a myrtle
and their three cows went moo

We decided to write
a bad poem about
our journey and a trout
at least it wasn't trite

"Have I killed this thread?"
cried a poet not named Fred.
"For if I am to blame
I shall bow my head in shame."

"Oh no, don't blame yourself!"
said a frisky little elf.
"This thread is still alive
so let's go and have some pie."


Edited by Vompatti - August 02 2007 at 16:33

Useless Purchase

I

Today it occurred to me
that 'useless' almost rhymes with 'purchase'
so I considered it my responsibility to write a poem with those words in it
and here it is

II

Many purchases are useless
and that's why the word purchase
almost rhymes with the word useless

Many purchases you have to chase
and that's why the word purchase
almost rhymes with the word chase

Many poems are bad
and that's why the word poem
doesn't rhyme with the word good at all

But some poems are good
and that's why the word poem
doesn't rhyme with the word bad either


Edited by Vompatti - August 23 2007 at 15:44

Fresh fruit came down upon my head
like a glistering snowstorm in May
kaboom! said the apple to the lemon
(that's not quite what I expected)
kaboom! said the lemon to the ape
a tropical rain of fruits and banjos
and girls with short hair (on their heads)
who cried for peace and waved their hands
the peaches misheard them and thought
what's up and what's down down down...
(the banjos left and the men followed)
what do you want with us?
said the leader of the peaches
and the girl got confused
and jumped in the lake
and the peach followed
and the girl catched the peach
and the peach catched the girl
and they both said
if this was a poem, whoa!
then the girl said
but this is a poem!
and the peach said
I wonder if anyone's reading it?
and the girl wondered the same
(if you're reading this, let me know)
and the men got back
and the banjos followed
and said to the peach
what are you doing there?
and who's there with you?
and the peach said I jumped in this lake
and the girl followed
and said I'm one of the girls with short hair
who fell from the sky with the fruit
the ape the banjos and the men
and the men played the banjos
and the song was about peace
peaches apes men and girls
with short hair (on their heads)
and when they had played that song
they played another
that was about broccoli
and it went like this:
broccoli, broccoli, broccoli-o-o-o-o-o!
then the girl said
if this really is a poem
it should end about now
(of course it didn't and the girl got sad)
the girl cried and the peach cried with her
but none of the men cried because they couldn't
because they had been in the war
and defeated the marshmallows
and coffee and tea and orangutans
the general looked at the ape and said
boy, you sure look like an orangutan!
and the ape said I'm not though
so the general said oh, whatever
and so the poem ended
(and the girl stopped crying)

^ Thanks.