Poetry #too.

Some free form nonsense:

The purple pancaked creatures with old faces and tiny birds were ready
They had no idea what they wanted but they couldn't crack at it with the juices flowing
Old frogs smoke weed inside smiling orange potato skins
Sucking at the flesh of a toilet frog
Aching with old pickled carcases of dead f**ks

Groceries piling up in the kart of a smoked ham dead next to Sam eating a lamb who
Well anyway
He can't see because his head is dead full of smiling poached smoked sausages
Walmart
Walmart
Walmart
Walmart
Walmart
Walmart is the ultimate solution for these punked out kids
They have no help and have no souls
They're so f**ked up and out of control

Big fished heads and rolls of glue
Stupid people need to chew
I have lice in my pubic hair
Now snort it hippy!

The old frogs cast away their shadows
They can't help but be entertained by this whole mess
It messes them up
With paper cups
Lined out across the table

Johnny talks to his mother
Through a phone call to Brooklyn
They found Johnny's caucus in a mattress store
AND SMILING WITHERED FELLOWS STARTED TO ACCUMULATE IN THE CORNER OF THE ROOM


Edited by smartpatrol - February 18 2013 at 14:08

There once was a man from Nantucket

oops.  sorry, wrong thread. 

Poem #1: Close My Eyes And Ears.

Can you hear me now?
Bless all the men that keep this ground clear.

If the sun does rise, I won't open my eyes.
If the sky comes clear, it's a reminder. It's time to steer clear
Of your song about your days that may reach my ears.

Can you hear me now?
Bless all the men that keep this ground clear,
And I will feel a whole lot better.
Amen.

That's all I have to say for today,
Though if you fancy my way, I hope you will enjoy your stay
Tomorrow.

Edited by Dayvenkirq - March 05 2013 at 03:27

God, god, I say "god", ... . 

John (to Lucielle): "I thought you were the screaming baby of my dreams"
Harold (to John): "You are the crux of the devil, and I am the fish in your brain!"
Lucielle (to both of them): "He is a cradle, you have died in it
You are the frog and I am the sh*t you spewed
I am a strong man
I am the fish for you to keep
I am a cradle
I am the evil sleep
And you are my lovers..."

Fish crawl ot of the ocean and smile without death
Blonde bombshells of the sexual deep
He smiles and waves
Inside the cave
He is weeping...

John (to Harold): "I have died in it.
I am brave and underwear.
I am a spaceship.
I am a sea of hair"
Harold (to Lucielle): "You are a loved one. You have crowded the sea.
You are a lover.
You have died in my grave."

Godess of the sea (to the world): "I am the brave blue ocean. Frying my pan for the death of my people.
I am screaming.
And my bones are snaping.
We thought that you were dead
We thought you were dead and gone down to the bottom
And prayed
For a lover"

The Fish: "For a lover
For a prayer and a god
For a mytar
For the brave and the gone
I am a spaceship
I am a brave son of a gun
I am your Amish lover
I am your soul
Gone and the gone"

We are here
We are dying
We are brave
We are almost gone

We have reached our Eclipse
We have reached the end
We are lost foriegn lovers
We are scared and dead and gone
This is the truth
This is a lover
This is the brave
This is the mytar
Of the world

Edited by smartpatrol - March 15 2013 at 00:06

Man With Hat wrote: Sometimes I think about a bowel movement and the intricacies involved with finding the door to a room filled with receptacles for my refuse. Other times I think about the air that surrounds me full of particulate matter infiltrating my lungs, my heart, my spleen, my colon, my brain, my inner ear canal, my vas deferens, and my superior vena cava, slipping post-socialist doctrines to my capillaries in an ultimate form of subversion from the inside. Yet still I think, about more things I think about and I continually find more hairs on the back of my neck than on my head or my nose (or my horse, but that is another tome altogether) which doesn't seem out of place if you consider another galaxy spinning on the same atomic frequency as the nerve gas inside the home on Fuller Street. At times I think that I think but other times I can't think about the times I think or don't think about the times I think or don't think about time. Sometimes, I have a bowel movement.

Only a short distance away from the power plant
He is a rocket and she is a dynamo
I am rolling out of the drive way
I am smiling as my friend says

Don’t take my dog for a walk
He walks all by himself
He is a very smart dog
I own a Bible

Freedom in their heels
He shops around for a new catch
He knows nothing of the familiar sites
He can not remember the day

Fish swim like dust
I am a rainbow
Don’t patronize me
I own an Xbox

Fields of flowers
Fields of gray
Nothing can
Ruin my day
I am a fish
Covered in goo
I am Siamese twin
Using up all your shampoo

Don’t talk to the flowers
They’ll get you nowhere
I am the demon
Dragon
Burning down the whole town
And it goes on…

^ Sounds like that 99 bottles of beer on the wall poem.

Ambient Hurricanes wrote: 1 A dissatisfied Indian llama 2 Went traveling to seek Nirvana 3 But old Curt Kobain 4 He messed up his brain 5 And now he just sits in the sauna

This one has five lines. Every verse in "99 bottles of beer" has five lines also:

Edited by Dayvenkirq - March 21 2013 at 00:14