Wed Jun 04, 2003 6:14 pm
Upon occasion I dip the odd quil. I write books and poetry, mostly. Toying with the idea of making money off writing memoirs. Odd thing is, everyone wants to tell the truth, but doesn't want anyone to know it.
A poem of mine:
She's picture perfect,
a thousand words to drip or spill from pen or lips.
Describe her stance, her eye, her hips,
attempt to sum it all up, make sure it fits.
A thousand words, and not a comma more:
No spaces between the lines,
nothing we simply can't adore.
You're the frame, stand her well.
But do it discreetly, like all is swell.
Ahh...how she glides by, a moving still.
If only nature could swallow this nihilistic pill.
Wouldn't it be grand?
Scurry yon landscapers, your park of plastic plants to plan.
Create us and Eden, the Christian delight,
Enliven the shadows with playful light,
Isn't it remarkable what we can do?
Lets have an outting, out to the zoo.
It's all so neat and perfectly kept.
And, if you look just so, she'll know you never wept.
Sadness is so dreay! What a borre!
We're off to the pictures you intellectual whore!
Suspend belief at the very least,
--it's forgiveable in a pathetic way--
but better yet clap and call Bravo! Encore!
We'll invite you backstage
(lair of the psychophants and borred manager)
You can offer adolations for an autograph.
Wouldn't that be nice?
Signed moving still,
propped among debris littering the mantlepiece.
Sit by the fire, admiring the set.
Perfect nostalgic moment, what a lovely pet.
(For Kristen, '92)
'Remember September'
A billion souls stirred on September eleven.
As the towers of despair dissolved before our eyes.
We come from each our personal, private worlds.
Silently joining hands and surrounding our grief.
Help the wounded, protect the innocent then--
Revenge
'Purpose' whispers from foot-falls
'Resolve' simmers beneath glances
Instincts sleeping wake
Beware the enemy of this tribe.
Mercy is a child of Peace.
And those pieces lie in a pyre of rubble.
We have attended the funeral
We will escort the grieving home.
And then we will come for you.
A poem of mine:
She's picture perfect,
a thousand words to drip or spill from pen or lips.
Describe her stance, her eye, her hips,
attempt to sum it all up, make sure it fits.
A thousand words, and not a comma more:
No spaces between the lines,
nothing we simply can't adore.
You're the frame, stand her well.
But do it discreetly, like all is swell.
Ahh...how she glides by, a moving still.
If only nature could swallow this nihilistic pill.
Wouldn't it be grand?
Scurry yon landscapers, your park of plastic plants to plan.
Create us and Eden, the Christian delight,
Enliven the shadows with playful light,
Isn't it remarkable what we can do?
Lets have an outting, out to the zoo.
It's all so neat and perfectly kept.
And, if you look just so, she'll know you never wept.
Sadness is so dreay! What a borre!
We're off to the pictures you intellectual whore!
Suspend belief at the very least,
--it's forgiveable in a pathetic way--
but better yet clap and call Bravo! Encore!
We'll invite you backstage
(lair of the psychophants and borred manager)
You can offer adolations for an autograph.
Wouldn't that be nice?
Signed moving still,
propped among debris littering the mantlepiece.
Sit by the fire, admiring the set.
Perfect nostalgic moment, what a lovely pet.
(For Kristen, '92)
'Remember September'
A billion souls stirred on September eleven.
As the towers of despair dissolved before our eyes.
We come from each our personal, private worlds.
Silently joining hands and surrounding our grief.
Help the wounded, protect the innocent then--
Revenge
'Purpose' whispers from foot-falls
'Resolve' simmers beneath glances
Instincts sleeping wake
Beware the enemy of this tribe.
Mercy is a child of Peace.
And those pieces lie in a pyre of rubble.
We have attended the funeral
We will escort the grieving home.
And then we will come for you.
Wed Jun 04, 2003 6:42 pm
I dated a poetry chick once...worst hell I've ever been through in my life.
...can I take my vote for Keek back?
...can I take my vote for Keek back?
Wed Jun 04, 2003 7:00 pm
Poetry is probably the hardest thing to write IMO. Getting it right without sounding cheesy or condescending is a real challenge.
I dig the September one, not bad, not bad...
I dig the September one, not bad, not bad...
Thu Jun 05, 2003 1:34 am
dang keek....you've got a little bill shakespeare in ya!
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:16 pm
haha late two year anniversary! the real reason I brought this thread up is: It contains Parrots very first post on his quest to spammage!
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:17 pm
Wow this thread is reallllllllllllllly old...
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:19 pm
then Parrot is really old ahaha 
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:19 pm
What page is it on?Originally posted by Sabres
haha late two year anniversary! the real reason I brought this thread up is: It contains Parrots very first post on his quest to spammage!
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:21 pm
Originally posted by SavageParrot
I saw a guy called wolfplayer once. By the way I am rather given to suspect that i suck!!
This is it
on page 2 for me
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:25 pm
http://forums.powervs.com/showthread.php?s=&threadid=10822&perpage=15&pagenumber=2
This is my first post ever
PBJ sounds good.But if I did'nt have that I would just get some cash and walk up the street to Mcdonalds.
This is my first post ever
PBJ sounds good.But if I did'nt have that I would just get some cash and walk up the street to Mcdonalds.
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:27 pm
awwww, lol. is mcdonalds still up the street?
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:33 pm
He he I was just trawling my old posts as well looking for my 1337th post 
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:41 pm
You bet it is...Go up there sometimes and get me a good old #4 my favoriteOriginally posted by Sabres
awwww, lol. is mcdonalds still up the street?
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:43 pm
Which one is #4?
Sat Jun 25, 2005 7:45 pm
Double Quarter Pounder With Cheese 
It tastes soooo good...and comes with the best fries in the world and a drink 
It tastes soooo good...and comes with the best fries in the world and a drink