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Smapdey
December 3rd, 2008, 06:29 PM
I wrote a few. Now you have to suffer. The lineation is in someway incorrect in every poem because I'm lazy and this was copy and pasted.

Sanity’s Slumber

Perception is that stained glass window reconciling independent thought with sensory onslaught.

I wear a wetsuit to pretend I’m living on the moon. When it gets hot, I strip down the top half to my waist, and then sweat profusely.

Some people say that the wetsuit is cheating, and that Luna is a nude beach.
“But Winter & Wisconsin…”

I have experienced a clipping error and fallen through a random map hole. Please inform my family of my cross dimensional departure: plunging through stray lines of code towards a
binary singularity.

We come to discover ourselves in a photograph entitled,
Nude Man Squatting in Empty Bathtub Gnaws on Still-Frozen EGGO Waffle
He turns to us and speaks,
FWONKYCHUMGAALOMARQONGLE!

We follow his advice, despite not knowing what it means.
I think it was best translated as:
“I just saw a dolphin shit a rainbow!”

Then that fucker grey-cap shows up, and puts big fucking freight trains in my veins and a dry fire in my lungs. I can feel the wheels jumbling up and down like atoms and angels dancing.

My blood itches.

Sometimes these words just come to you, like a tsunami at the mall:

Blunderbuss.



FRUIT FLIES DO THINGS YOU CAN’T SEE ON TV.
Unspeakably obscene acts performed with moistened “feelers” are now officially
VERBOTEN!

How do the fruit flies respond to these puritanical values? Fanatical patriotic compliance.
The FCC has Special Amoral Fruit Fly Behavior Crackdown Task Force Commandos
These exist to make ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that
THERE ARE NO MICROSCOPES IN AMERIKA
showing amoral, nude, highly sexualized, soul-scarring, grossly inaccurate fruit fly behavior
unless it costs $4.99 a minute,
all fruit fly models certified to be at least eighteen years of age at time of principal photography.

WE can THANK your GLORIOUS LEADERS for a FRUIT FLY SMUT FREE FUTURE.
most of all for the children
WE must DEPRIVE our CHILDREN
of the instructions to make more children
They could raise an army. Never shall the fruit flies
corrupt the WELL-BEHAVED CHILD-ANIMALS of Amerika

Everyone has at one point or another been the victim
horrific SEXUAL ASSAULT at the hands of a fruit FLY or fruit FLIES.
It has been to EVERYONE’S BENEFIT that no one has noticed.
Particularly in light of the cruel and non-consensual indiscretions of
The Los Angeles Fruit Fly Riots of 1992
Sparked by an orange being left in an office waste paper basket.

These DAMN DROSOPHILIC TERRORS
Go cruising in low-riders while tagging graffiti on freeway overpasses.
They illegally download music off of the internet.
They skateboard and then don’t go to church to repent over it.
They play dungeons and dragons and don’t vote.
They flick ashes on the rug and flip off your grandma
They stole your identity and told your boss you were sick with the clap.
They ride around on a surfboard during the storm surge of a hurricane,
looting things they cannot afford and attacking survivors with a samurai sword.
They robbed your local convenience store,
got your dad drunk before he beat you up.

by SUPPORTING your local ANTI-FRUIT FLY internment camps,
we CAN all COPULATE,
LAY many HUNDREDS of our EGGS,
DIE SAFELY
JUST and RIGHTEOUS MELANOGASTERS.



SANDWICHS!
Flight was once proved mathematically impossible.
A few years later a plane was built.
It turns out that we could fly all along
Not crashing to death is really the obstacle.

A great many people believe in angels.
Many of these same people don’t believe in dinosaurs.
Apparently Dr. Kent Levine has found strong geological evidence that
Fish were scared during Noah’s flood.
I have found strong geological evidence that
Most of what people believe
Is irrelevant bullshit.

In the future, our houses will be on stilts,
Maintained by robots wearing aprons
and we’ll cruise around in a flying car,
firing family members out in pods
in the general direction of wherever they happen to be going.
Also, your dog will talk, but he’ll have a speech impediment.

Father once lent us the lightning.
I learned a powerful lesson.
Never barbeque what has not been meant to barbeque.
However,
New combinations of objects,
Previously thought inedible,
May be electrocuted
And sold as pizza.

When I watch TV I want to put the barrel of a gun in my eye.
Gary Coleman is telling me how to get a loan.
Why did this not set off alarms everywhere?
Isn’t anyone watching out for us?
Most of all though,
the important thing in life,
is to know exactly what you want
on your sandwich.







Once questions were asked
concerning conceptual continuity –
Plummeting Deep Now
I tried and didn’t understand.
Frankie proclaimed that it should be easy to see: the crux of the biscuit is the apostrophe. But to me, turning this small vertical line into the keystone of our philosophical arch was a lot like squeezing water out of sand.
You cannot squeeze water out of sand, but you can make broken glass, which is close enough.
Diving Deeper
There was a time when these questions were answered by chewing up a special piece of paper and taking a surfboard trip to a cognitive sunrise.
We paddled out to a yellow kelp bed to see that wise old sage: P. Eric “Fun Guy” Guss. Eric Fun made us wrap newspapers round our heads and told us we were precious and also very deep.
Such Depth… Such Color.
I wasn’t sure if it was a jeep or a ceiling fan, but my friends were in it, smiling, happy, waving at me and driving very fast in the opposite direction.
I turned to the sea, which was lovely and looked like couch cushions and turned into a car crash.
In the screaming chaos of twisted rubber, burning people and the deaths of innocent metals,
I coughed, saw the harsh light of reality and went crashing through the venetian blinds.
Mike! Why on earth do you have that M80 taped to that spray paint can?
But it was too late, and he was off, sprinting down the street, gleefully clutching a sparklingly stupid idea.
He attempted to huck it into the dumpster. It bounced.
You’d think we’d all remember the fireball, or that tremendous roar of sound and compression, or the windows of the nearby apartment complex turning into a shiny tornado hailstorm, but I remember hiding from the cops in a tree, and wishing that Mike had had a better throwing arm.
The drugs weren’t bad! They were the fun to be had! Fun we could orally add!
It didn’t matter if you were lassie or lad, the drugs didn’t make you sad.
It was life that drove us mad; sobriety, a childhood fad.

Digital Limit
December 3rd, 2008, 07:05 PM
The structure of your post bothers me enough not to read it.

/ocd

future man
December 3rd, 2008, 07:17 PM
I haven't taken a breath that wasn't through a lit bong in four years.

Digital Limit
December 4th, 2008, 02:03 AM
Livin' the life.

Yian
December 4th, 2008, 06:05 AM
I write Haiku:

Drinking some smoothie
The inkjet printer weaves through life
Sleep that I desperately need.

Many, many lights
Black is the new red for the fall
Glass was not well drawn

Face always need more work
Some breasts look like utters.
A skeleton army

schnitzel_bob
December 4th, 2008, 06:10 AM
If I may quote Mr Garrison:
"A Haiku is like a regular American poem, except it doesn't rhyme and it's totally stupid".

MrBored
December 4th, 2008, 10:49 AM
/care

IcedEarth
December 5th, 2008, 09:39 AM
I write Haiku:

Drinking some smoothie - 5 syllables, correct!
The inkjet printer weaves through life - 8 syllables, wrong! Should be 7
Sleep that I desperately need. - 7 syllables, wrong! Should be 5

Many, many lights - 5 syllables, correct!
Black is the new red for the fall - 8 syllables, wrong! Should be 7
Glass was not well drawn - 5 syllables, correct!

Face always need more work - 6 syllables, wrong! Should be 5
Some breasts look like utters. - 6 syllables, wrong! Should be 7
A skeleton army - 6 syllables, wrong! Should be 5

URDOINITWRONG!

I am acting rude
Pointing out your mistakes here
Please forgive me Yian

Lehesu
December 5th, 2008, 11:41 AM
Utters is a verb, not a noun.

farsimon
December 5th, 2008, 12:15 PM
he meant udders

Digital Limit
December 5th, 2008, 02:25 PM
He knows.

farsimon
December 6th, 2008, 12:41 AM
this blows

Hobbes874
December 6th, 2008, 01:34 AM
it shows

farsimon
December 6th, 2008, 04:19 AM
oh noes!

Smapdey
December 6th, 2008, 10:16 AM
Smack dat ho?

Yian
December 6th, 2008, 01:08 PM
URDOINITWRONG!

I am acting rude
Pointing out your mistakes here
Please forgive me Yian
Um, they are right if you wrote them in Chinese. I translated them.

Digital Limit
December 6th, 2008, 03:34 PM
A poem in Chinese is no longer a poem in English given the nature of meter and rhyme.

tisl
December 6th, 2008, 04:17 PM
"Ohhhh, look at meee. I'm the haiku referee!"

future man
December 6th, 2008, 04:23 PM
Um, they are right if you wrote them in Chinese. I translated them.

Oh, fucking pwnd, Iced Earth. Fucking pwnd.

LittleChief
December 6th, 2008, 08:19 PM
IcedEarth waits for vag
The one to christen his sack
He is a virgin

Six is average length
Or so the doctor told him
He fails to please her

Tentatively sits
Counts his nuts repetedly
Never exceeds two

The sun is setting
Gratification is sought
Hand in place of girl

IcedEarth
December 7th, 2008, 12:57 PM
http://www.roflcat.com/images/cats/270913946_efa38ec3d8.jpg

LittleChief
February 5th, 2009, 12:36 AM
Reveille. Forces muster.

Massive army, swollen camp, a waiting target breeds dissent among the allied hordes.

Eager stockades of minutemen thirst to quench the enemy's analogous craving.

Battle stations, the plain is clear and lines are drawn, forces advance from rearward barracks.

Bombardment rains, and shields are hewn, yet no charge is sounded. For minutes that mirror hours the battery enrages countless scores of the vigilant crusaders, ardent to make their mark on the "face" of history.


Tension builds, containment falters. Orders are to hold, yet orders cannot be headed. Heated fervor overwhelms.

A hot cry ushers forth from the mighty droves of fodder. The plain is crossed.

An unripe target is aghast. Caught of guard, blinded and choked. Submissiveness and survival, essential and paired.

The veil of metaphor is lifted, allusions are past.

Woman wipes her face, dissatisfied with deplorable stamina. Humbled, plods to the kitchen to make dinner.

Man catches breath, turns on tv. Bacon doesn't bring itself.