He sits alone in a park
Just surrounded by the dark
He can not hear the dogs bark
Cuz he is busy building a Poetry ARK!
Yes, to save all the poems in the world
One man will let his madness unfurl
Armed with a laptop and an internet connection
He will rebuild ARK of Poetry after damnation
With a poem a minute, he's a man with a mission
His blog is eats up words as they get written
This man don't care if his words are being read
I say again, this man has madness in his head
So, night turns to day and still this man writes
With forces of law and sleep this one man fights
The cops take away his laptop and throw him in jail
Now he writes on the walls, every hour without fail
But how will he post those poems on his blog?
----
Woah Man Woah!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
The Bottles Of Frustration
She is drunk
On some vile liquid
again
And there is a dick-tionary
of big-ass words
in her brain
She got fucked
when she was drunk
So that late she could
write poetry about it
She hates the sex
but loves the pain
like all stupid poets
she too is fucked in the brain
Misandrist*
Drunk
Poet
Sore
In the head
and down there.
(someone who hates men)
---
I do not know about anything else but reading this blog beats reading the dictionary! But seriously, one time inspiration for me to write. One amazing blogger+poet, who I guess I have just offended.
Oh well, not the last, not the first.
More coming your way! Get in line, bitches!
On some vile liquid
again
And there is a dick-tionary
of big-ass words
in her brain
She got fucked
when she was drunk
So that late she could
write poetry about it
She hates the sex
but loves the pain
like all stupid poets
she too is fucked in the brain
Misandrist*
Drunk
Poet
Sore
In the head
and down there.
(someone who hates men)
---
I do not know about anything else but reading this blog beats reading the dictionary! But seriously, one time inspiration for me to write. One amazing blogger+poet, who I guess I have just offended.
Oh well, not the last, not the first.
More coming your way! Get in line, bitches!
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Let's take a lil break!
Have a kit kat buddy! This is break time.
This is one of those rare non poem posts on this blog, that make it through when I have to say something to YOU!
So, in the past few weeks we have written a lot of poems and the weird this I have been noticing is that this blog is getting a LOT of keyword hits, there has been a poem down there somewhere about it. But keyword hits mean zilch, because there is no way of knowing that those people have read it or not, did they find the poems nice? or worse? or whatever.
Keyword surfers never leave comments. So, if you are one who is reading this right now, prove me wrong!
Anyway, to the fact of the matter. I was sitting in office and thinking, which I do very rarely, I think all Constant Readers know my aversion to thinking, dangerous thinking this...animal called Thinking. But then, I thought, and I thought about poems on the blogs. How many of them are saying what they want to say? Because, somewhere between the lines, the meaning is getting lost [not passing judgment on anyone, just my observations]. Because from where I see it, people are writing poems for the sake of writing poems, or do they really have something to say?
Personally, I do not like the cliched stuff 'out there' I mean come on, I'm reading your blog, give me something that will make me go WOAH! or make me laugh, or make me cry, or make me smack my head on the keyboard and die bleeding on this one. Surprise me, amaze me, disgust me. Don't give me something same like 1000 other places on the www, please, pretty please with a cherry on top!
FUCK! Some of the poems out there leave me numb. Where is the feeling? So,uhm, well, I'm going to do something about it. In Rhyme. In all good fun though. Fun like, poking you in the kidneys with a poison coated sharpened lollypop.
There shall be Poetry. About YOU! Oh fuck yeah, now won't that be funny! Won't be taking any names here for protecting the privacy of the bloggers. But come on, nothing like a friendly dig on you, heck if you can guess the poem is about you, maybe get it framed and hang it on top of your bed!
Right, so to sum up. I do not like some of the poems out there and I'm going to make fun of them. In Rhyme.
See you tomorrow, get your guessing cones out of the cupboard and let's have some fun!
(:
This is one of those rare non poem posts on this blog, that make it through when I have to say something to YOU!
So, in the past few weeks we have written a lot of poems and the weird this I have been noticing is that this blog is getting a LOT of keyword hits, there has been a poem down there somewhere about it. But keyword hits mean zilch, because there is no way of knowing that those people have read it or not, did they find the poems nice? or worse? or whatever.
Keyword surfers never leave comments. So, if you are one who is reading this right now, prove me wrong!
Anyway, to the fact of the matter. I was sitting in office and thinking, which I do very rarely, I think all Constant Readers know my aversion to thinking, dangerous thinking this...animal called Thinking. But then, I thought, and I thought about poems on the blogs. How many of them are saying what they want to say? Because, somewhere between the lines, the meaning is getting lost [not passing judgment on anyone, just my observations]. Because from where I see it, people are writing poems for the sake of writing poems, or do they really have something to say?
Personally, I do not like the cliched stuff 'out there' I mean come on, I'm reading your blog, give me something that will make me go WOAH! or make me laugh, or make me cry, or make me smack my head on the keyboard and die bleeding on this one. Surprise me, amaze me, disgust me. Don't give me something same like 1000 other places on the www, please, pretty please with a cherry on top!
FUCK! Some of the poems out there leave me numb. Where is the feeling? So,uhm, well, I'm going to do something about it. In Rhyme. In all good fun though. Fun like, poking you in the kidneys with a poison coated sharpened lollypop.
There shall be Poetry. About YOU! Oh fuck yeah, now won't that be funny! Won't be taking any names here for protecting the privacy of the bloggers. But come on, nothing like a friendly dig on you, heck if you can guess the poem is about you, maybe get it framed and hang it on top of your bed!
Right, so to sum up. I do not like some of the poems out there and I'm going to make fun of them. In Rhyme.
See you tomorrow, get your guessing cones out of the cupboard and let's have some fun!
(:
Saturday, April 19, 2008
YBMMSBILP
<b>Your Blog Makes Me Sleepy But I Like Your Pain</b>
Your misery turns me on like a zing
And I want to rub salt in your wounds
Pain can be a really funny thing
As long as it's happening to you
I see your words of apocalyptic pain
I read you bitch and read you complain
But all your moaning is in vain
Cuz you don't know, your God is insane
Frankly honey, ranting on a blog isn't going to help
What you sucked and who you fucked will send you to hell
I will not be wrong in saying you are halfway there
Don't scream 'Help!' in my face, :) I don't care!
I'm not sorry that I find your condition funny
Like a shark attack on a beach that is sunny
Your words are boring and you make me sleepy
I read your blog to fall asleep, now ain't that creepy?
-=-=-=-=-=-=
I want to love you madly.
Your misery turns me on like a zing
And I want to rub salt in your wounds
Pain can be a really funny thing
As long as it's happening to you
I see your words of apocalyptic pain
I read you bitch and read you complain
But all your moaning is in vain
Cuz you don't know, your God is insane
Frankly honey, ranting on a blog isn't going to help
What you sucked and who you fucked will send you to hell
I will not be wrong in saying you are halfway there
Don't scream 'Help!' in my face, :) I don't care!
I'm not sorry that I find your condition funny
Like a shark attack on a beach that is sunny
Your words are boring and you make me sleepy
I read your blog to fall asleep, now ain't that creepy?
-=-=-=-=-=-=
I want to love you madly.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The Hits
It does not matter
If I update or not
Cuz' the hits keep on coming
Like flies on rotting shit
Like vultures on a camel carcass
Like boys after a single girl
Like America after oil
Like people looking for poems
Poems about monkeys
Poems about getting fucked in sleep
Poems about being eighteen
Poems about telling someone to fuck off
I do not know these people
These people do not know me
But they come looking for something
And that is what surprises me
Because I can understand people looking
For poems on monkeys
But a poem on tankman?
Is there someone out there so bored?!
I guess there is, cuz that keywords hits my blog everyday
In different sentences, in different ways
Still people do not bother to stop and say
Hey man, how you doin, i digg your poems everyday
-=-=-=-=-=-=
Statcounter rulez!
If I update or not
Cuz' the hits keep on coming
Like flies on rotting shit
Like vultures on a camel carcass
Like boys after a single girl
Like America after oil
Like people looking for poems
Poems about monkeys
Poems about getting fucked in sleep
Poems about being eighteen
Poems about telling someone to fuck off
I do not know these people
These people do not know me
But they come looking for something
And that is what surprises me
Because I can understand people looking
For poems on monkeys
But a poem on tankman?
Is there someone out there so bored?!
I guess there is, cuz that keywords hits my blog everyday
In different sentences, in different ways
Still people do not bother to stop and say
Hey man, how you doin, i digg your poems everyday
-=-=-=-=-=-=
Statcounter rulez!
Sunday, April 13, 2008
This Again The Same
History fucking repeats itself
Old doubts will always linger
In the back of your mind
And hit you in behind
-when you are not looking
Old enemies are never really dead
They have their guns aimed at your head
You can show them the finger
But they will shoot you point black
-when you are looking in the wrong place
Ex-partners still have your cell-number with them
The ass-es don't know the meaning of 'fuck off!'
They write your number all over the internet
And you get calls from random horny men
-when you are updating your blog
Old sins will come back to haunt you
Each good deed left undone
Won't it be fun, walking in the sun
Laughing at crying at what you have done
-when you should have been doing others.
-=-=-=-=-
Ok, fuck it. This too will come back to haunt me someday.
Anyone made any sense out of it?
Old doubts will always linger
In the back of your mind
And hit you in behind
-when you are not looking
Old enemies are never really dead
They have their guns aimed at your head
You can show them the finger
But they will shoot you point black
-when you are looking in the wrong place
Ex-partners still have your cell-number with them
The ass-es don't know the meaning of 'fuck off!'
They write your number all over the internet
And you get calls from random horny men
-when you are updating your blog
Old sins will come back to haunt you
Each good deed left undone
Won't it be fun, walking in the sun
Laughing at crying at what you have done
-when you should have been doing others.
-=-=-=-=-
Ok, fuck it. This too will come back to haunt me someday.
Anyone made any sense out of it?
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