whatever
 

Lookin for love, in all the wrong places.

Poll: Poem
 

We have assumed control.

Bitch pretty please.
 

It's spelled deity.

p(Timmy!)c

whatever
 

I think that it's "Berry" as in Halle Berry, Academy Award winning actress. "Berry Hunter" is, I am pretty sure, a Thurgreed tribute and or stalker sock, based upon Thurgreed's oft stated level of regard for Ms. Berry.

Why? Because I like to be helpful.

Poll: Poem
 

If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loath
To shoot when you catch 'em -- you'll swing, on my oath! --
Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er: that's Hell for them both,
An' you're shut o' the curse of a soldier.
Curse, curse, curse of a soldier . . .

When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck,
Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck,
Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck
And march to your front like a soldier.
Front, front, front like a soldier . . .

When 'arf of your bullets fly wide in the ditch,
Don't call your Martini a cross-eyed old bitch;
She's human as you are -- you treat her as sich,
An' she'll fight for the young British soldier.
Fight, fight, fight for the soldier . . .

When shakin' their bustles like ladies so fine,
The guns o' the enemy wheel into line,
Shoot low at the limbers an' don't mind the shine,
For noise never startles the soldier.
Start-, start-, startles the soldier . . .

If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white,
Remember it's ruin to run from a fight:
So take open order, lie down, and sit tight,
And wait for supports like a soldier.
Wait, wait, wait like a soldier . . .

When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An' go to your Gawd like a soldier.
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
So-oldier of the Queen!

Bitch pretty please.
 

you win. further evidence that I am not one (a deity I mean, I am sometimes a timmy). And, on a related note, I barely could stand sitting through English class (does it show?), so no English Professor ambitions here. Also dad and sis are/were both Profs and I can assure all I'm not cut out for that shit.

Poll: Poem
 

Poem Poll....

What the hell.


Dear John, Dear Coltrane

a love supreme, a love supreme
a love supreme, a love supreme

Sex fingers toes
in the marketplace
near your father's church
in Hamlet, North Carolina--
witness to this love
in this calm fallow
of these minds;
there is no substitute for pain:
genitals gone or going,
seed burned out,
you tuck the roots in the earth,
turn back, and move
by river through the swamps,
singing: a love supreme, a love supreme;
what does it all mean?
Loss, so great each black
woman expects your failure
in mute change, the seed gone.
You plod up into the electric city--
you song now crystal and
the blues. You pick up the horn
with some will and blow
into the freezing night:
a love supreme, a love supreme--

Dawn comes and you cook
up the thick sin 'tween
impotence and death, fuel
the tenor sax cannibal
heart, genitals and sweat
that makes you clean--
a love supreme, a love supreme--

Why you so black?
cause I am
why you so funky?
cause I am
why you so black?
cause I am
why you sweet?
cause I am
why you so black?
cause I am
a love supreme, a love supreme:

So sick you couldn't play Naima,
so flat we ached
for song you'd concealed
with your own blood,
your diseased liver gave
out its purity,
the inflated heart
pumps out, the tenor kiss,
tenor love:


a love supreme, a love supreme--
a love supreme, a love supreme--


edited to add the author: Michael Harper

poetry poll
 

Apro...uh, by the way, I still find the Fred thing amusing. Perhaps a bit overused, but still amusing.

And Atticus, dude, Andrew Marvell is better than that dope-riddled idiot's Xanadu any day.

My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, Lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

Byron's "She Walks In Beauty" gets credit because this line reminds me of someone:

And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes

Ode to ncs

Sitting in English 387
thinking about
the end of class-
20 minutes away;
Coughing like crazy
low and thundering,
filling the air;
girl next to me
coughing too,
but sweet and lite;
Jeanette McDonald
to my Nelson Eddy,
improvising over the rhythms
I'm setting down
as the class learns
Jesus symbols;

And I wonder
do they wonder
about us
see us as two
together?
sharing a cold,
as we share a bed?
Wednesday they'll know
I'll be in back again,
she'll probably
sit up front
but for now,
we're together
this snowy Monday
afternoon.

Poll: Poem
 

There once was man from Nantucket,
Whose cock was so big he could suck it.
He said with a grin
Wiping sperm from his chin
If my ear was a cunt I could Fuck it.


* This is NOT my favorite poem. I am responding to ABBAKiss' question.

Poll: Poem
 

Hickory Dickory Dock.
My balls fell out of my jock.
I laid them to rest
On some hooker's chest
And paddled her face with my cock.

Poll: Poem
 

From Charles Baudelaire's "Harmonie du Soir":
...
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige....

(The sun drowns in its own congealing blood.)

The rest of the poem is great, too, but I'm not up to translating it on the fly.

Poll: Poem
 

Thurgreed,

This is all your fucking fault.

Poem Poll
 

Feeling the need to redeem my dignity:


In those years, people will say, we lost track
of the meaning of we, of you
we found ourselves
reduced to I
and the whole thing became
silly, ironic, terrible:
we were trying to live a personal life
and yes, that was the only life
we could bear witness to

But the great dark birds of history screamed and plunged
into our personal weather
They were headed somewhere else but their beaks and pinions drove
along the shore, through the rags of fog
where we stood, saying I

Adrienne Rich

Poll: Poem
 

I guess I've never heard the entire poem before. Just the line I incorrectly quoted. Huh. And it's not my favorite poem either but I thought the poll was to post one line with sexual connotations and I think my line fits the bill.

And thank you for using all caps for ABBA.

Poll: Poem
 

No, I have to re-vote:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

whatever
 

1. This isn't the standup world.
2. Key words: used wisely and judiciously.
3. "most people will agree i'm mainly correct" will never die.

TM

Light as the Breeze, L. Cohen
 

I know it's a song, but I'm incapable of thinking of Leonard Cohen as anything but a poet.

• She stands before you naked
  you can see it, you can taste it,
  and she comes to you light as the breeze.
  Now you can drink it or you can nurse it,
  it don't matter how you worship
  as long as you're
  down on your knees.
  So I knelt there at the delta,
  at the alpha and the omega,
  at the cradle of the river and the seas.
  And like a blessing come from heaven
  for something like a second
  I was healed and my heart
  was at ease.
  
  O baby I waited
  so long for your kiss
  for something to happen,
  oh something like this.
  
  And you're weak and you're harmless
  and you're sleeping in your harness
  and the wind going wild
  in the trees,
  and it ain't exactly prison
  but you'll never be forgiven
  for whatever you've done
  with the keys.
  
  O baby I waited ...
  
  It's dark now and it's snowing
  O my love I must be going,
  The river has started to freeze.
  And I'm sick of pretending
  I'm broken from bending
  I've lived too long on my knees.
  
  Then she dances so graceful
  and your heart's hard and hateful
  and she's naked
  but that's just a tease.
  And you turn in disgust
  from your hatred and from your love
  and she comes to you
  light as the breeze.
  
  O baby I waited ...
  
  There's blood on every bracelet
  you can see it, you can taste it,
  and it's Please baby
  please baby please.
  And she says, Drink deeply, pilgrim
  but don't forget there's still a woman
  beneath this
  resplendent chemise.
  
  So I knelt there at the delta,
  at the alpha and the omega,
  I knelt there like one who believes.
  And the blessings come from heaven
  and for something like a second
  I'm cured and my heart
  is at ease

And for those who may be interested in Houston, Marc Bamuthi Joseph will be at Diverse Works tonight and tomorrow night.

Poll: Poem
 

Le singe est sur la branche...

Poem Poll
 

Me too, and with some popular John Donne:

No man is an island, entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less,
as well as if a promontory were,
as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were:
any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind,
and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls;
it tolls for thee.

whatever
 

You are full of shit and are lying to us and yourself.

You spend a lot of time here. As much as me. You get all pissy when someone (usually paigow) attacks you. You care. Just like everyone else. And you should be ashamed of yourself for acting like you don't. And if you really don't, get lost.

Everyone cares what gets posted here. It is a welcomed distraction to our mundane jobs. When it gets boring and repetitive over here people say so. I bet you've said, "Enough with the [insert boring thread here] let's get back to the tits" plenty of times.

So spare me. You're above no one on this board in terms of how cool you think you are. If you felt the way you think you're coming across, you would spend roughly zero time here.

TM

Poem Poll
 

Donne and Marvel here , to save you all the effort to scroll through 4 long verses. Although it seemed kinkier in 7th grade.

Poem Poll
 

Is anyone actually reading all these shitty poems? I think I am a sound/sight bite person. Solid text or line and line of blahditty blah blah poetry is booooooooorrrrring.

whatever
 

Anyone who remembers TM's exigesis on how to give a blowjob knows that he really, really cares. Like, in a kinda squicky way. NTTAWWT.

Poll: Poem
 

Maybe one day a week.

Poem Poll
 

No.

I rarely read anything that shows up onthe screen like that. So I miss all the paigow IM conversations, many song parodies, etc.

I did read Hank's post, but only because my name was in the title. I don't remember sleeping with anyone from any English classes (and I doubt I took any 300 level English classes), but then I don't remember college (or who all I've slept with) all THAT well.

poetry poll
 

I swear to God (not Fred) that an ex-boyfriend tried to recite that poem to me to try to get me to sleep with him (he knew I was a virgin at the time). But he wasn't an English major (I was) so he kept fucking up the lines and I had to keep correcting him. He didn't get lucky (that night).

The grave's a fine and private place
But none I think do there embrace

(I didn't google so don't bother pointing out if I got a syllable wrong)

Poll: Poem
 

Kipling's poetry improves if you translate it out of the 'orrible Cockney accent. (Hank -- this thought originally George Orwell's.)

Poll: Poem
 

I am, I said
To no one there
And no one heard a word
Not even the chair.

Poem.
 

Le Feu

This is a poem by Eugène Ionesco, as recited by Mary, the housekeeper, in Ionesco's play La Cantatrice Chauve, or, The Bald Soprano.

Les polycandres brillaient dans les bois
Une pierre prit feu
Le château prit feu
La fôret prit feu
Les hommes prirent feu
Les femmes prirent feu
Les oiseaux prirent feu
Les poissons prirent feu
L'eau prit feu
Le ciel prit feu
La cendre prit feu
La fumée prit feu
Le feu prit feu
Tout prit feu
Prit feu, prit feu.

Poll: Poem
 

Not my favorite poem, or even my favorite smut, but since people seem to be in a mood for dirty lymerics ...

There were three young ladies from Birmingham
And here is the scandal concerning them:
They pulled up the frock
And they tickled the cock
Of the Bishop busy confirming them.

Now this Bishop was nobody's fool
(He'd gone to a good public school).
He pulled down their britches
And buggered those bitches
With his ten-inch Episcopal tool.

But then the lady from Verdue
Said as this Bishop withdrew:
"The Vicar is quicker
And thicker and slicker
And longer and stronger than you."

BR(I do have a favorite porno poem, but I have to go home to get the book and turn to the place where it falls open - maybe I'll post part of it this weekend)C

Is This Irony?
 

According to the elevator, where I get all my news, the CEO of Smith & Wesson stepped down because they discovered that he spent 15 years in prison for armed robbery.



If you can't believe the elevator, who can you believe?

Poem.
 

This post makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

Poem Poll
 

Effing heathen.

Celebrity Justice News...
 

Michael Jackson was pulled over by police in Colorado after shopping at a local Wal-Mart while wearing a ski mask.

That's a good way not to draw attention...

Did he not want to be seen, period, or not want to be seen in a Wal-Mart?

In other news, Bobby Brown was sentenced to 60 days in jail for violating probation...

Every little step I take... Bubba will be there.

Poem Poll
 

Not in the least. Ergo, I give you 2004's Best Actress Oscar Winner:

http://www.adorocinema.com/personali...e-theron02.jpg

this post is purely to entertain Abba
 

[Sniff.] You make me so proud!

Poem Poll
 

That's more like it.

Poll: Poem
 

Some of you people are just nasty.

Poll: Poem
 

Not at all - I was just being helpful to ABBA.