Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin
It is a tautology. The wicked prosper because they are wicked. Golly! Jerry, everyone knows that one.
It is a tautology. The wicked prosper because they are wicked. Golly! Jerry, everyone knows that one.
it's printed out and I've written him a short letternow all I need is an international reply coupon. I'll let you know IF he ever replies
Maybe you should include the image from your signature too.
The weird part is this actually got published somewhere, I forget just where. It's a Clerihew, a four-line poem about a famous person, in which you make joking remarks.
I did this one following the big O.J. Simpson verdict:
O.J. Simpson, O.J. Simpson—
Just did or didn’t you do it, son?
Don’t seem to matter now, either way.
You were found “Not Guilty” the other day…
Some of us laugh
Some of us cry
Some of us smoke
Some of us lie
But it's all just the way
that we cope with our lives...
Don't tell me my poem doesn't qualify as the worst poem ever!Out of my sight please
Put away these books
Don't want to see these
In any corner, in any nook
The bones of contention
Reason of every evil in this world
Having words which slap you
Put away these books
Who can like these looks?
The haunting looks which
The title cover gives?
I am through with their tricks!
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew.
I am trying to make a rhyme
to get through all this
and I ONLY HAVE ONE HAND
not the right one
so I can not write
cause I AM NOT left
and it makes me sad
to know I CANT
never hold anyone
in my arms
(cause I dont have arm)
and I AM AFRAID
I m only a freak
who try to make others feel
as ridiculous as I am.
On the subject of Sensitivity, let it be,
Only thou should'st knowest
It is I, I mock,
not thee.
except for a few random mistakes most beginning poets make, and a spelling error hear or their.
"Don't matter who they are, anybody sets foot in this house, they are company and don't let me catch you remarking on their ways like you were so high and mighty."
Sounds like a cue for a clerihew thread to me. Go on, Pen. You know you want to.
I spel mitsake not like you
In poerty I exel
When peel from nose some snot
We al loves to yel
My bad poerty suck
And exel at write poerty
There is no darkness, there is no light, there is only Lasagne!
In fact, no poem is a bad poem and poems come from the heart and they can not be bad at all. For heart is where life is nestled and in fact what heart comes upon is not a thing of flaws.Just bash one out. Don't think about it too much. I'll start.
****
Oh my love, how I have burned for you
you who I know are waiting could it be
around this very next corner, waiting
for the vision we both yearn so to see
Come on a magic ocean of joy, my love
Let us be united in a kiss of pure bliss
For we have spent our lives waiting only
waiting and now it has come at last to this!
****
Come on. Don't be shy! Embarrass yourselves!
I like your poem and particularly these lines deepen our feelings.
Let us be united in a kiss of pure bliss
For we have spent our lives waiting only
waiting and now it has come at last to this!
These lines have something what life finally arrives at, and every creature have to ultimately, and like plants coming to fruition, and women birthing babies. Who dares to say without a preoccupation these are bad lines?
“Those who seek to satisfy the mind of man by hampering it with ceremonies and music and affecting charity and devotion have lost their original nature””
“If water derives lucidity from stillness, how much more the faculties of the mind! The mind of the sage, being in repose, becomes the mirror of the universe, the speculum of all creation.
look now
white and crusty
upon the unused
smegma
=====
see? that's how you write really bad poetry...
se non e vero, e molto ben'trovato
Yeah, badly touching.
Bad poetry? Good poetry?
Bad sun? Good sun?
Bad sex? Good sex?
Bad love? Good love?
Bad dove? Good dove?
Bad flower? Good flower?
Bad shower? Good shower?
Bad dew? Good dew?
Bad death? Good death?
Bad morning? Good night!
poerty is a
mitsake
There is no polite way
of being happy
I must say that writing bad poetry is really easy when u have nothing as inspiration except exams!
On a sultry september saturday
Annoyance came in countless forms—
The sticky heat, mother’s scowls, undecipherable sums…
Or just the street dog strutting too close,
Glasses missing,
Sister hissing,
Or just not having enough money to lose!
And this attempt at putting this vexing day into sentences
Is made, by all these, timeless, priceless…and erm…worthless?
Well, you did say "just bash one out and dont think about it too much"
Last edited by symphony; 09-22-2007 at 01:11 PM.
.
...the smell of flowers through metal labyrinths.
Yes. But funnily enough, it's got something, especially near the beginning.Well, you did say "just bash one out and dont think about it too much"
Oh bottle block capital description drunk money dugout belong
'Tis a fine thing whatever it is said before derision intrudes to display
Now for I go not where I know not however many said below baleful blow
Oh Winny, for it is you, yes, and whenever we say it we also feel a tingling
Smash the system, let it go, we are the ones who must rebuild this stinking
crater, this monstrous abyss, this void, vacuum, hollow, bleak hole
And yea, we shall, for we have the fortitude of both mind and spirit
yea, yea, yea, yea, yeah
Hold on there missy. I caught you trying to sneak this in as bad poetry.Yeah, badly touching.
Bad poetry? Good poetry?
Bad sun? Good sun?
Bad sex? Good sex?
Bad love? Good love?
Bad dove? Good dove?
Bad flower? Good flower?
Bad shower? Good shower?
Bad dew? Good dew?
Bad death? Good death?
Bad morning? Good night!
Now, here is the baddest! tehe
All For You
I have a million poems for you,
Would you like to hear them,
To know how much you touched me,
That you were much more than a whim?
I'm in love with The Vinegar Man and Mr. Tanner, but be careful, it could just as easily be you.
"If you're going to write you better have somewhere to come from." Flannery O'Connor
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