write a really bad poem

[blp]

I, lotus, funambulate mit conga loop de doo
so vat if I got nuffing to say
It's my thread and I'll talk if I want to
You got a petit problem wid it
go
just go
Dis party is strickly fer de exclusive set
with no discernment
but a lot of ready cash
fried sandwich anyone?

[SleepyWitch]

Lots and lots to like here. I especially like 'er, you've got...forget it.'

you'll be no doubt intrested to hear that the Hare Krishna man outside Waterstone's (?) in Birmingham got himself a band, probably his cousins from India. Wow, he must have been singing Hare Krishna non stop for 4 years by now, but somehow it's not the same anymore, too Bollywoodish. I'm not even sure it's the same guy, actually, if it weren't for the lyrics.

[blp]

I am interested, yes, though I'm afraid I can't see what that's got to do with the remark of mine you quoted or this thread in general. Perhaps nothing. That would be fine.

[SleepyWitch]

I am interested, yes, though I'm afraid I can't see what that's got to do with the remark of mine you quoted or this thread in general. Perhaps nothing. That would be fine.

hehe, sorry, the Hare Krishna man featured in the poem you made this comment on, but I was too lazy to figure out who do quote all of it (i.e. my original post+ your comment)

[blp]

Laziness is fully in the spirit of this thread.

What does TOS BOYS mean, Sleepy?

It's got to be about belief
This endless road of grief
Where death comes like a thief

And you only get one life
One that is always rife
with cuts that sting like a knife

For all these thoughts of death
I want you to meet my friend Seth
He has a lot left of breath

[Pensive]

Laziness is fully in the spirit of this thread.

What does TOS BOYS mean, Sleepy?

It's got to be about belief
This endless road of grief
Where death comes like a thief

And you only get one life
One that is always rife
with cuts that sting like a knife

For all these thoughts of death
I want you to meet my friend Seth
He has a lot left of breath

This not that bad really.

[blp]

This not that bad really.

Thanks. Come on, though, some of it is pretty atrocious.

O black leather biker baby
someone told me you've got scabies
at least that's better than rabies.

Don't worry, this one isn't directed at you, Pensive!

[blp]

O stupor of fantasy incarnate
The force of past troubles residue
Why don't you leave?
When I no longer believe?
Why won't your hurting stain
dissolve?

[V.Jayalakshmi]

Dear Members,

Wow!!! Writing a bad poem.
Here I go ,where is my keyboard,
Rhyme with reason,you author or rather E-Author,
Have you noticed?I am growing in lenghth,like a mustache well kept ,
No more space to frow,so here I go thin and I ask you is it not poetry,
At its best,for thoughts trimmed,
Are but thoughts forgotton.
Wow! Wow! here I go,
Shaking my pen at you.

[blp]

Dear Members,

Wow!!! Writing a bad poem.
Here I go ,where is my keyboard,
Rhyme with reason,you author or rather E-Author,
Have you noticed?I am growing in lenghth,like a mustache well kept ,
No more space to frow,so here I go thin and I ask you is it not poetry,
At its best,for thoughts trimmed,
Are but thoughts forgotton.
Wow! Wow! here I go,
Shaking my pen at you.

Love the repeated Wows.

[SleepyWitch]

What does TOS BOYS mean, Sleepy?

TOS= the original series= the first Star Trek series the one that's got Kirk, Spock and McCoy in it.
by the way, I haven't forgotten your PM. will think about your question some more, though.....

heehee, I wish I could think of a really bad poem with lots of cheap rhymes....

there stood a tree upon the heath
and knit its twigs into a wreath,
towards the ground its leaves did seep
and tears of amber did it weep
for all the halcyon days now lost
and without hope away now tossed.
But of the tree's past happiness,
the humble poet must confess,
the reasons are as yet unknown
and cannot presently be shown,
nor what has brought this loss about
can anyone yet reason out.
So must we all depart anon
and leave our poor tree on its own.

[blp]

there stood a tree upon the heath
and knit its twigs into a wreath,
towards the ground its leaves did seep
and tears of amber did it weep
for all the halcyon days now lost
and without hope away now tossed.
But of the tree's past happiness,
the humble poet must confess,
the reasons are as yet unknown
and cannot presently be shown,
nor what has brought this loss about
can anyone yet reason out.
So must we all depart anon
and leave our poor tree on its own.

John Skelton would be proud!

It's really really hard to say
what is the purpose of the day
By this I mean, no one's defined
a general mission for mankind
The aim of yesterday was clear
It was, simply, to get us here
Tomrrow's purpose no one does know
But we can put that off until tomorrow
Perhaps that's where we've been going wrong
Leaving our planning for too long
'til it's tomorrow's today and we've got no plan
Except to bewail the temporal predicament of man.
Ugh!

[mazHur]

A Not-So-Rosy Poem
by mazHur

every fruit in the orchard,
every flower in the garden
every man
every woman
everything
has its own distinctive odor
color, feel
but unlike you
nothing stinks so much;
Go take a bath !

[creativity]

buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo buffalo
buffalo buffalo!

[blp]

Subtile cellular divisions
were slowly eaten by pigeons
this is OK
It's like that today
Pigeons eat all kinds of ****
and are allowed to just get away with it
no one minds anymore
they just go out to the store
and buy more