Poetry
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Apprentice
Member # 4169
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written Thursday, April 1 2004 19:28
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I made this poem a few years ago and I guess it just stuck in the back of my mind. It's called "Ork": There once was a man named Ork Who loved to eat his pork. He'd shoot a boar, It'd hit the floor, And he'd eat it with his spork. Brilliant, no?  -------------------- -- Zell_1388 Posts: 13 | Registered: Sunday, March 28 2004 08:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 3776
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written Thursday, April 1 2004 22:42
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I've another one like that There was a farmer in leeds, who ate 5 packets of seeds. The time came to pass and he was covered with grass. Thus there was no harvest. -Munster (I know it's kinda dumb) -------------------- Some stupid laws If it is mine,it is mine. If I had it a second ago,it is mine If it looks like it is mine it is mine. If it is your's and you keep it down,it becomes mine. If I like something,it is mine If I see something,then it is mine. Please click here Do not visit this Page Want to visit the misc.boards-This is the only WAY -Stinging Munster Posts: 413 | Registered: Friday, December 12 2003 08:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Friday, April 2 2004 13:35
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Language is the vessel by which we describe what we cannot with action. Poetry is the language of the soul. As such, it shouldn't be dragged into anything that can be produced by action. The word 'poetry' has done nothing to deserve being pinned onto sentiments better expressed by physical action. And it it is my opinion that in the above several cases, the sentiment can, in fact, be expressed perfectly well without words, in an act regarded as impolite for mixed company. I feel exceptionally dire today. I critique, yes. "Get to bed," the parents yell the little children don't agree. "The Boogeyman will surely get you then and you will pay the fee." But do they listen? Not a chance. They continue on to play. Until they hear a voice above them: "You will surely die today." Little children run and hide, to escape their gruesome fate. But only now do they realize, that running is too late. Running fast and running hard, they run as much as they can. But no matter how much they will try, they won't escape the Boogeyman. The phoenomenon of 'bathos' is in play here. A situation becomes bathetic when the wrong connotational emotion is applied to it, or if it's being given more characteristic significance than it deserves. At face value, this poem is about a childhood fear that we all outgrow at a single-digit age. When you dig deeper, it's self-indulgent wanking. Don't quit your day job. -- I have lived in the mountain for years. Breathed its dank air Dreamt dreams, indulged my fears Engaged in thoughts both mundane and rare. I have wandered its passages long. Found secret portals and dark lairs I have been filled with joy, have broken into song, Have watered the hard ground with my tears. A rough-hewn stairway exists here Leading up into shadowy unrest Its destination shielded from the sharp eye?s peer Hidden in the cloak of mist. I have thought often of making the climb. Of trekking up the tortuous stair And reaching the top, aching limb from limb To find a world far more fair. But whenever this thought occurs to me I realize its danger, its deceptive facility And considering everything, I always see I?m better off in my mountain of security. Live, live. -- Oracles Wisdom costs their kindness Knowledge sickens their souls I watch from a distance how they Sit on dark thrones, incense smoke writhing, obscuring Mutter serene prophecies Rule gods and royalty, their fortresses, iron foundations shaken, cracked The gospel rewritten, the castles in the air toppled No laws of science or government move them and their words We do not hear the whispers passing their lips Yet the crude, unstable towers of rumour and half-caught tales Write our doctrines, build our history, crown our kings Soak our men in blood Millions have died for these spirit's whispers Still blades are bloodied by indecipherable rhymes Still tears are shed by those who have lost to an unproven phrase And everything ashes to nothing The untouchables, the unspoken to Corpses litter the ground at at their feet Oracles mutter on I don't like it and I can't tell why. Perhaps it's the insincerity; insincerity will kill good poetry or good pornography dead, and must be avoided at all costs in both cases. -- I had my lute and my poetry I told of divided dominions, fairy creed A hundred blades wiped clean on bloodied snow A traveler with many leagues to go How many dead tales have the troubadours told? In the shining courts of emperors old Of spell-woven swords and sorcerer queens Of hooded strangers robed in green Where are our metered songs now sung? How many new stories have us spiders spun? We are abandoned to a nowhere fate As kings concern themselves with politics in other states Now they look to the future, not the past Our legends, like fine roses, couldn?t last No haven for what was once a royal troubadour Save inns for the plaguèd, ale-blind poor Many better storytellers than I drink And are content to no longer tell tales or think In dreams but spend days with a poorer company Of fools and ne?er do-wells and petty thieves. Maybe I find bathos too easy. Maybe I don't. But I feel it here; I loathe dwelling on the past. -- I was the strongest of my kind, The mightyest of all, For through my strength and will and speed, I was the last to fall. I was paid sums beyond compare, To loan my services to few, My was always victorious, Oh, only if they knew... My past held many secrets, My deepest, darkest fears, That if they only knew about, Would turn them on their ears. My path was fraught with tragedies, That Fate herself had wrought, All of those many dear to me, Within this web were caught. Elaborate on these I shall, But first something I must say. Though I've accepted these as destiny, I do not wish it that way. ---------------------------- My life began in such a way, That may seem linked to this, For my mother and my father, Were both upon the list. They were to be executed, Though they waged a valiant fight, But in the end, the cruel, steel axe, Extinguished their bright lights. ---------------------------- My siblings were adopted, By a cruel, uncaring man, When ever he turned his back, We tried out many plans. We tried to run, To hide, to flee, Though in the end, Our plans he'd see. He'd whip us, beat us, Through the night. In the end we had one option: Not to flee but fight. Our plan was very simple, To kill him in his sleep, We waited for him to don his nightcap, And into slumber creep. We grabbed our sharpened kitchen knives, We snuck without a sound, Up to the room where the cruel man slept, Our feet barely touched the ground. And then we were upon him, Cleaved and cleaved again, Never would he torment him, Never, that is when. Once the deed was done, We fled that awful place, Against time and the sunrise, It was a mighty race. ---------------------------- When finally we were safe and sound, The town far out of sight, We found ourselves in a desert, And it was quickly getting light. We ran further inside it, The sun rising in the sky, Why we ran so fervently, I never shall know why. By now the sun was risen, Its harsh rays beat down, We were separated, Going and circles, round and round. I was found by a caravan, That sold me as a slave, I was to be a gladiator, Many foes met with my blade. I was there reunited, With my brother in the ring, The battle was a fierce one, Of which many bards did sing. I struck the final mighty blow, My masked opponent fell, My brother's face did show to me, That all was not at all well. "My dearest brother, you've been tricked." He stated as he lay, At my side, upon the dust, "No, my brother... Nay!" At this the life left him, I was left alone, I vowed to ever sheathe my sword, My voice as hard as stone. ---------------------------- I escaped the cruel cell I called home, Escaped to the countryside, It was there I married a woman, With whom fate would soon collide. In the middle of the night, Tragedy did strike, My wife and son were struck down, By a dark, mysterious reich. It was then I saw my true destiny, To defend the weak and feeble, I drew my blade, my foes tasted cold steel, And I swore a vow to defend the unable. ---------------------------- Now as these memories are fresh in my mind, I think of the deaths in my life, My father, mother, sisters and brother, And of course my dear dead wife. Their sacrifices were needless, And yet they were made, It just goes to show you, The way that fate is laid. So as I sit and think about, The way I peddled my might, I really makes me think to myself, That I may have not been right. I ponder to myself, The vow that I have made, I know I haven't upheld it, Deep into my thoughts I wade. ---------------------------- I promise now, to myself, This vow I shall uphold, And never shall I kill again, If all to gain is gold. So as I drift deep into sleep, I wonder if it's true? That so many others, Know the suffering that I knew... The word 'reich' is in here why. -- What is it? What have we here? Could it be? Can it be? Is it the killer of life? In here? How could it be anything but? We've searched all over, You can see, but not touch! Why don't you think it could be anything but? Here, in this box, as banal as can be, It can kill many, as only some can see. Those whom cannot are those with greedy eyes, Oh, aren't they in for a wonderful surprise? How could it be anything but? The golden box, in which it lays, Lays most wonderful power, such dangerous power, Such dark, black power. How could it be anything but? Kafka once used lack of descriptive detail for a claustrophobic effect in his classic short story, 'The Burrow'. You are not Franz Kafka. You need to get at what you're going to get at sooner or later. -- In the high seas of this democracy, there is no mercy. School drags on, like a tortoise on the run, after-school passes in seconds, flies by, like a ostrich in the sky. Corporal punishment is the "in", I mean, trampy students raid the bins. Clever people suffer from lousy whims, inflicted by those whose brains are dim. The smoke on their clothes dazes me, the tramps are such incompentant fiends. Soon I will leave, be free and safe. When I speak interlectually I will not be afraid. Life will be fun -(I wont be making illegal guns)- I will be working as good as a lost king could be I like this better than I should. -- Roses are red, violets are blue, grass is green, leaves are too. Bricks are red, My computer, black, I'm kind of bored now, Cut me some slack. My English book's white, Like a summer bloom, I think, in a minute, Work I'll resume. Some flowers are white, They are called lillies, Some flowers purple... This is just silly. Granite is gray, My mouse is as well, Essays are boring, Beaches have shells. This stanza just - 'bout wraps things up, So I'll break the rhyming and rhythmic patters I've been using and end with a grammatically incorrect sentence, like so. I'd stick to particle physics if I were you. Poetry isn't your area, no matter how much your posse enjoys patting you on the head and telling you it is. -- She sits there laughing at the rain And I wonder if she knows That the way it comes down reminds me of me And the way I fall Fall for you I could fall into Those eyes of blue And a voice like summer skies that smile Down on me Invitingly Frost bites the land, the sky is bleak And I wonder when she speaks How moch she knows of how I feel How much she really means to me I guess we Will never know Even though I would love to tell her, I'm afraid She'll say no Oh, God No! This is decent. And that should be all. [ Friday, April 02, 2004 13:56: Message edited by: And Suddenly, Custer ] -------------------- AnamaFreak (3:59:56 AM): Shounen-ai to the MAX ...there really is nothing that can compare to hot gay sex with a mythological icon. --665 Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 1506
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written Friday, April 2 2004 13:41
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Tsk tsk, someone's feeling nasty today. (edit) kay, I hate being offtopic. (edit edit) But if I see this poem on Dolney's site I'm not going to be very happy. That means NO YOU CANNOT STEAL THIS. Diana goes hunting in a forest dearly known in a land well-loved and kind. A deer sighted? a doe, Diana knows and the hunt has truly begun. Soft the huntress creeps but the doe, she knows and she turns to Diana and looks in her eyes A bow stayed and the doe, she knows and Diana feels fear as the doe feels strength. The roles become right and the doe, Diana knows has been struck in the side, a mortal blow. Diana has hunted in her forest dearly known and her life runs out red with the doe?s. [ Friday, April 02, 2004 13:44: Message edited by: Hawkgirl ] -------------------- desperance.net -- Come on in, we don't bite. Well, I don't. Posts: 218 | Registered: Saturday, July 13 2002 07:00 |
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Agent
Member # 618
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written Friday, April 2 2004 14:21
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Here's a poem I made up as I was writing this: The hippos' Cossack dance, Penguins mildly indigo, Playing the game of chance, They wait for the lawn to mow. For if not why, Then where or how, Perchance, shall they try? The sun shines, though misty night, All at once, and at one, The animals above begin the light, And as quick'nd it is done. For though the dance was dawn, The animals gather, drawn, To watch the light anew, As the new day was born. - Some random thing I made up this second. Strangely enough I don't NEED critique to tell me what that was: Pants On A VERY Pointy Stick. Meh, bleh, feh. Stop stealing my phrases or constiuent parts Dangit! And yes I mean YOU. You know who you are. -------------------- I like to say quack because I can, I like to say moooo because I can, but I don't like saying ergle flmp because I can never pronounce phenomenon first try. In conclusion, quack, moooo and phenonemenonmenonnon... Oh Poo. http://s4.invisionfree.com/Ultimate_RP/index.php Try it! Posts: 1487 | Registered: Sunday, February 10 2002 08:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Friday, April 2 2004 14:29
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I apply to your 'work' the one-word version of Akhronath's review of Johnny Favourite. -------------------- AnamaFreak (3:59:56 AM): Shounen-ai to the MAX ...there really is nothing that can compare to hot gay sex with a mythological icon. --665 Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Agent
Member # 618
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written Friday, April 2 2004 14:50
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Which was? And HEY! You try better in two minutes. -------------------- I like to say quack because I can, I like to say moooo because I can, but I don't like saying ergle flmp because I can never pronounce phenomenon first try. In conclusion, quack, moooo and phenonemenonmenonnon... Oh Poo. http://s4.invisionfree.com/Ultimate_RP/index.php Try it! Posts: 1487 | Registered: Sunday, February 10 2002 08:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 1506
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written Friday, April 2 2004 15:04
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quote:Yeah, I see how it is. Everyone here gets a nasty comment except me. Well nuts to you, Alec. [ Friday, April 02, 2004 15:13: Message edited by: Hawkgirl ] -------------------- desperance.net -- Come on in, we don't bite. Well, I don't. Posts: 218 | Registered: Saturday, July 13 2002 07:00 |
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Agent
Member # 618
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written Friday, April 2 2004 15:10
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Why, would you like one? And though he be a right-royal pain, he didn't shun everyone's work, there were two he liked I believe. 'Sides, yours was actually pretty good compared to the majority of pants poetry I see nowadays. -------------------- I like to say quack because I can, I like to say moooo because I can, but I don't like saying ergle flmp because I can never pronounce phenomenon first try. In conclusion, quack, moooo and phenonemenonmenonnon... Oh Poo. http://s4.invisionfree.com/Ultimate_RP/index.php Try it! Posts: 1487 | Registered: Sunday, February 10 2002 08:00 |
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BANNED
Member # 4
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written Friday, April 2 2004 17:14
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"so much depends upon the red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens" --"Red Wheelbarrow", William Carlos Williams Am I the only person who didn't understand the comment Alec made on Stuggie's poem? I'll have to put together a poem of my own eventually. -------------------- Rate My Scenarios! Streila Spies Unbalanced Accounts Inn of Blades Echoes Echoes: Assault Echoes: Black Horse Echoes: Pawns Bandits Echoes: Combat/Skirmish Two Strands Bandits II: Ballad of the Red Star Roses of Reckoning (BoE) Corporeus The Claim Roses of Reckoning (BoA) Nebulous Times Hence Emerald Mountain Posts: 6936 | Registered: Tuesday, September 18 2001 07:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3239
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written Friday, April 2 2004 18:37
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The world is too much with us "The world is too much with us - late and soon, Getting and Spending we lay awaste our powers Little we see in nature that is ours We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon The sea that bears her bosom to the moon, The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are upgathered now like sleeping flowers For this, for everything, we are out of tune, It moves us not - Great God! I'd rather be a pagan suckled in a creed outworn. So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea, or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn." - William Wordworth In the Station of the Metro "The apparations of these faces in the crowd, Petals on a wet, black bough" -Ezra Pound I just took a World Literature final and had to memorize those three poems plus the red wheel barrow. I got a perfect A on it, too. (It consisted of much more than poetry, though) EDIT: quote:Don't worry, I'll still annoy you plenty  [ Friday, April 02, 2004 18:43: Message edited by: Gremlin Chief ] Posts: 203 | Registered: Saturday, July 19 2003 07:00 |
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Senile Reptile
Member # 547
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 05:35
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Alec, your powers of perception are incredible! I daresay, I thought I'd impress everyone with my incredible saga, but you somehow managed to find fault in my masterful poetry. Why must you spend your talents of critique here, when there are so many proffesional poets who could use the words of such a man as you? Go forth, Alec! Challenge the greater powers that be, and let us lowlier beings bask in eachother's pale, reflected glory.  You have to have an iron rear, To sit upon a cactus. Otherwise at least a year, of very painful practice. -Jack Prelutsky -------------------- Polaris Posts: 1614 | Registered: Wednesday, January 23 2002 08:00 |
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Infiltrator
Member # 1220
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 08:34
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Sorry guys my internet was down for a while. I gotup some of the poems keep them coming and make sure you check out the site and spread it around a little. Edit: And to clarify I can't really put names up unless I'm granted promission due to privacy laws and alot of them are submitted. Also screen names aren't covered under any laws or anything but if you want me to put your screen name tell me. Also please don't post copyrighted or stuff you don't want me to put up because I might accidently. Edit2: O and I'm working on getting every poem it's own page but limited space. [ Saturday, April 03, 2004 10:25: Message edited by: A guy with not so perfict grammer ] -------------------- Getapc -------------------- The Flaming Sword of not perfict grammer has now become The Flaming Sword of Pretty Good Grammar. -------------------- Warning pretty good grammar behind.▓ -------------------- A guy with not so perfict grammer has changed to A guy with pretty good grammar. -------------------- I shortened my signature more. Posts: 484 | Registered: Monday, May 27 2002 07:00 |
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Agent
Member # 618
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 10:54
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Try this, another two-minuter (NOT THAT!): The lark hath twixt it's beak The lark hath twixt it's beak, As the sadness arise the hills, The young man a-weeps, His sorrow, deathly chill, His true love, or so his thought, A dear Emmeline, so fair, Hath spurned his heart's advance, Brok'n with nay a care, His love hath rejected him, Now only an end he seek, Life finished to the mighty cry, The lark hath twixt it's beak. EDIT: Edited for purpose of grammatically correct people, not metioning any name. (Psssst... look below!) Though I still reckon it read better when this was the final stanza: His love hath rejected him, Destroyed the love he seek, And with a mighty cry, The lark hath twixt it's beak. And it wasn't SUCH a downer. And what with the topics around it that were brought up recently. Bleh, Meh, Feh. [ Saturday, April 03, 2004 11:51: Message edited by: FatBatMonkey ] -------------------- I like to say quack because I can, I like to say moooo because I can, but I don't like saying ergle flmp because I can never pronounce phenomenon first try. In conclusion, quack, moooo and phenonemenonmenonnon... Oh Poo. http://s4.invisionfree.com/Ultimate_RP/index.php Try it! Posts: 1487 | Registered: Sunday, February 10 2002 08:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 11:28
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'Twixt' means 'between'. And never use baroque linguistic structure unless you're literally speaking for a historic figure. -------------------- AnamaFreak (3:59:56 AM): Shounen-ai to the MAX ...there really is nothing that can compare to hot gay sex with a mythological icon. --665 Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Agent
Member # 618
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 11:44
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LOLOLOLOL!! OKAY OKAY! Now once again in English please. It wasn't anything serious fer crying out loud! I have no idea what twixt means (nor any intention of finding out) As for baroque style, I've heard of it, but that's as far as it goes. No offence, but poor structure or not it is one of my many writing styles and is useful for comic devices. I'm sorry that I upset your English teacher instinct and I'll change it so it makes sense (but still not too much) but you take things far too seriously mate. Lighten up. No piece of poetry or prose that mine fair hand hath written, has been entirely seriously. I even once wrote an essay espousing the virtues of cheese, got me an A* and a right laugh along with the rest of the class. (Truthfully speaking the cheese essay was supposed to be a joke designed to get me a low grade (to do with a bet), but she really didn't get it until I'd spelt it out.) Bleh, Meh, Feh. And if anyone should want my essay, they're welcome to have it. -------------------- I like to say quack because I can, I like to say moooo because I can, but I don't like saying ergle flmp because I can never pronounce phenomenon first try. In conclusion, quack, moooo and phenonemenonmenonnon... Oh Poo. http://s4.invisionfree.com/Ultimate_RP/index.php Try it! Posts: 1487 | Registered: Sunday, February 10 2002 08:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 12:03
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quote: -------------------- AnamaFreak (3:59:56 AM): Shounen-ai to the MAX ...there really is nothing that can compare to hot gay sex with a mythological icon. --665 Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Agent
Member # 618
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 12:21
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NO NO NO! This will NOT do. I admit that my knowledge of the word "twixt" and the term "baroque" were as good as non-existant. But I know what every other word means, I have learnt more archaic old English dialects than you probably know exist, so this WILL not stand. I never expect approval, I don't even want it. It was merely something I did randomly in two minutes (literally so), and posted because it was basically very, very silly, much like yourself good sir. And if you consider yourself lax on sturucture and prose, then I would REALLY hate to meet someone that you consider strict on the matter. and that was not an insult to intellectuals, (of which I am considered to be) it was an insult on the part of your high standards. And DON'T start me on the bible, or then I may be forced to say something, which according to the CoC is unforgivable. And I'll sum myself up for you (as you seem incapable of being to the point in that matter) Simply: Guile. Unless you don't even know what THAT means. -------------------- I like to say quack because I can, I like to say moooo because I can, but I don't like saying ergle flmp because I can never pronounce phenomenon first try. In conclusion, quack, moooo and phenonemenonmenonnon... Oh Poo. http://s4.invisionfree.com/Ultimate_RP/index.php Try it! Posts: 1487 | Registered: Sunday, February 10 2002 08:00 |
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Bob's Big Date
Member # 3151
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 21:59
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You're just throwing out random words in a vain attempt to look big, much like a cat puffs up violently when threatened. I severely doubt you know 'several dialects' of archaic English, being as how English as it is has never been dialectualized enough to justify anything besides phonetic differences. Who considers you an intellectual? And what's your issue with the Bible? -------------------- AnamaFreak (3:59:56 AM): Shounen-ai to the MAX ...there really is nothing that can compare to hot gay sex with a mythological icon. --665 Posts: 2367 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Off With Their Heads
Member # 4045
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written Saturday, April 3 2004 23:05
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quote:FBM, you might make a few more friends around here if you stopped insulting people's intelligence. We're pretty much all literate, with a modicum of brains and vocabulary and knowledge of textual references. We can all try to treat each other with some respect (and that might apply to Alec, too, although I think the personal attacks began with FBM referring to "your English teacher instinct") But dude, FBM... when you have to explain your literary devices (stating that something was sarcasm, or "it was an insult on the part of your high standards"), that means they weren't terribly effective. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be critical, so I hope you don't take offense. I just think you might not realize what you're doing wrong that's bothering some people. Erm, and come to think of it, you seem to be characterized not so much by guile as by roughly the same sublety as a nuclear fusion explosion. -------------------- Kelandon's Pink and Pretty Page!! (The home of BoA's HLPM v1.1!) Rate my scenarios! Northern Kingdom 0: Prologue High Level Party Maker Posts: 7968 | Registered: Saturday, February 28 2004 08:00 |
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Shock Trooper
Member # 3605
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written Sunday, April 4 2004 07:38
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just a point. nobody is going to say any of these are crap, becasue if they do they will be hated. im not saying any of these poems are crap... ....or am i? EDIT: having just read the previous something posts i just want to say stop attacking eachother. if you disagree say so CALMLY, without starting a fight. please? *INSERT CUTE FACE HERE* [ Sunday, April 04, 2004 07:46: Message edited by: Angry Ogre ] -------------------- BOAC, youll know if you click... Posts: 358 | Registered: Monday, October 27 2003 08:00 |
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Senile Reptile
Member # 547
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written Sunday, April 4 2004 07:40
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Hey now, don't be ratting on fusion explosions. They can be subtle, they just choose to be all big and such. Another poem by Prelutsky. I hope I'm not doing anything illegal by posting these here, but they are the best poems ever yay yay! I'd never dine on dinosaurs, they can't be good to eat, for all they've got are lots of bones, and not a bit of meat. -------------------- Polaris Posts: 1614 | Registered: Wednesday, January 23 2002 08:00 |
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Shake Before Using
Member # 75
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written Sunday, April 4 2004 08:27
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I think Alec already said that quite a few of them were crap. Also, "Angry Ogre" + cute face = NO. Posts: 3234 | Registered: Thursday, October 4 2001 07:00 |
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Babelicious
Member # 3149
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written Sunday, April 4 2004 09:44
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If a person can't take some mild criticism along the lines of they suck and their seed must be stricken from the earth, they don't deserve to get out of bed in the morning. -------------------- Beatoff Valley: A story told out of order. Posts: 999 | Registered: Friday, June 27 2003 07:00 |
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Law Bringer
Member # 335
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written Sunday, April 4 2004 10:09
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If you want to write pretentious poetry, make sure you can back it up. If you want to write self-mocking poetry, go ahead. The criticism is praise, in a twisted sort of way. Never take your work too seriously. Parsley is gharsley --Ogden Nash ?Alorael, who is not a poet in any way, shape, or form. He'd have to strain himself to come up with something as good as that. Posts: 14579 | Registered: Saturday, December 1 2001 08:00 |