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Poetry and dialogue from the Poet Barf room on the Swagland BBS.
95Jul05 11:25 pm from Zeylan
Post some spontaneous poetry here, just because.
95Jul06 2:02 am from Norbus
Night birds mock.
Reality perpetuated in black.
It squelches. Mutated surrealism.
Snickering shadows.
Experienced Laughing.
I've come home again.
95Jul06 8:06 am from Zeylan
Very nice. More?
95Jul06 9:14 am from Dark Doctor X
Look on the bright side, suicide
Lost eyesight, I'm on your side
95Jul06 10:52 am from Zeylan
I'm looking for _original_ poetry, not Nirvana lyrics.
95Jul06 11:36 am from Stranger
You shoulda specified... *:-o
95Jul06 1:50 pm from Amarantheus
A Haiku.
Zeylan I think
this poetry just sucks.
get a life, dude, ok?
95Jul06 2:08 pm from Psyche
VOmit splashes from
your reptilian tongue
zeylan licks it up
95Jul06 2:47 pm from MONZI
As mangles of perpitrated pig skin roam the earth constantly awaiting the next
soul to suck and breath and feel o' like the universe making people inhale
themselves into an oblivion.
95Jul06 6:00 pm from Zeylan
A haiku for Amarantheus and Psyche.
Both of you bitches
can bite me so very hard
in the crotch region.
95Jul06 6:35 pm from Swagman
Nip me softly in the silent flesh
of the hallow hollow above my walk
Tear my heart from the shrouded tomb
of my one less rib-cage where I've
made my gift in lieu of my soul
which wasn't enough in the long run
I'll respect you in the morning
when the wetness bakes dry, sunlit and harsh
crow and buzzard wait their turn
after you toss aside my spent carcass
95Jul06 11:17 pm from Zeylan
Did you write that? I hope so, it's good. Please only post original stuff in
here. Swag, can you turn on the archiving for this room, please?
95Jul06 11:53 pm from Mr Pube
Sometimes I drink my urine
Sometimes I eat my feces
It's nice to know that
I always have a choice.
95Jul07 12:42 am from Mordrak
i barf and i sneeze for your benefit. i latch onto your face with the sticky
tentacles of my mucus. it encases your greasy ugly face and i can only
laugh. laugh at your stupid grin and satisfaction from feeling my nose blown
into your eye. and sometimes i wonder why people tell me to shut up.
95Jul07 12:53 am from Zeylan
Bravo.
95Jul07 2:08 am from Nigel
This
s a peom
ay it
ake fuck I messed up.
95Jul07 2:08 am from Nigel
Brilliant, huh?
95Jul07 10:33 am from Yacub
My mouth
My hand
A fishook
whee
95Jul07 12:44 pm from Stranger
Haikus are tough. Lemme see...
Oh dear, just the beginning,
And already I am running out of syllab...
95Jul07 6:20 pm from Swagman
Yep, first draught original on the fly extemporaneous and everything mine...
95Jul07 6:22 pm from Swagman
Archiving in place, sir.
95Jul07 11:08 pm from Nigel
.ris
95Jul08 12:55 am from Mordrak
running through the fields of psychadelic sun,
through the stalks of grass we blindly run.
in the center of all that we are and am,
sits a half digested block of year old spam.
the only thing we can really think of then,
is how we've had the runs since we ate at ten.
stuck in the middle of overwhelming beauty,
all we want is some toilet paper for our dookie.
where's the kaopectate and a public john,
if we can't find one we'll defecate on the lawn.
these are the joys that we run into in life,
monstrous bowel movements during the dark night.
the god awful smell of the poop from your ass,
as it runs out your bung like water from a glass.
so take it from me as i sit on my porcelain throne,
don't eat bad spam or you scream ass stretching moans....
12:58pm 7-8-95
howard tang
95Jul08 1:38 am from Norbus
It's what astronauts read.
95Jul08 9:21 am from Swagman
Howie, that was disgustingly delightful...
95Jul08 11:57 am from Zeylan
Encore. I'm holding up a lighter.
95Jul08 1:15 pm from Formula 409
Look at that. Zeylan's doing a one-man wave.
95Jul08 8:12 pm from Math Blaster
thing
weird
a
is
This
95Jul08 10:24 pm from Mordrak
heh, i had sudden inspiration last night from a conversation with my friend
about shit and spam... =)
95Jul09 9:23 am from Swagman
read New
95Mar24 5:14 pm from Norbus Yep... your children's.
95Mar25 11:54 am from Little Rascal
Milky way Universe
VS.
Coffee Creamer Universe
Conbined
The chocolate on the milky way
bar mixes with coffee creamer
and then the milky way bar is
dipped in the thick thick coffee
creamer chocolate. The reast of
the chocolate is poured in the
empty universe and years years
later they formed into planets
and then astronoughts came on
the planets and one of them smelled
the planets and they thought they
smelled coffee creamer and they
tasted the planet and they tasted
coffee creamer and chocolate the
person told the other people and
then they lived on the planet ever
since then.
Praise Pube] Skip Praise Pube> goto Ring Of Fire
35 messages
2 new Ring Of Fire>
95Jul09 7:52 pm from Nigel
Non dairy creamer is some cool shit. Sprinkle it over a lit match. Enjoy.
Don't stand too close.
95Jul09 7:52 pm from Nigel
Cool shit.
95Jul09 8:14 pm from Psyche
Hot shit. Someone write a poem about hot shit.
95Jul09 8:31 pm from Formula 409
That's not really my forte.
95Jul09 9:45 pm from Zeylan
Hot shit
the smell of your burning love
emotion from your
sweltering canal
That shit
the stuff my dreams are made of
when I think of your
fecal corral
Wet shit
falling from the sky above
it's starting to pour
rain so anal
Bird shit
from a passing turtle dove
or is it a pidgeon? or
another bird banal
95Jul09 9:45 pm from Zeylan
It's not really my forte, either.
95Jul09 9:50 pm from Zeylan
You know, on further reflection I'd have to say that it's kind of sad how
almost every poem in this room is about shit. Except for Little Rascal's,
unless you consider chocolate and coffee creamer to be a rather shitty food
combination as I do. I'm sure that stuff would LOOK like shit if you mixed it
together in large amounts. Big chunky shit-paste. Spread it with a knife.
95Jul09 10:45 pm from Nigel
Speaking of shit speaking of shit spreading..
The Smear Method
- N. W.
(Based on a true story)
How do I shit
in the fields of the gods
if I lack the paper of toilet?
I hover real well,
But I still lack an
ass of no wipe.
I'll tell you, my friend. Just sit back and enjoy
The method we know as the smear. All you need, boy
is a rock and or two and you'll be completely set.
Grunt
Excrete
Release
Wala! Your shit is one with the earth.
Take the big rock and smear it around.
Your shit is more one with the earth.
Let it dry, my friend. It will bake in the sun
and the shit - it will soon be no more. The
rays will cook it, fry it, steam it, and kill it
and you have encouraged ecological awareness
Your shit does not stink or intrude upon
the rights of other trail users
it merely vanishes, and you know, if
you don't smear you're a loser.
95Jul09 10:47 pm from Nigel
If you're not a communist, you're a loser.
95Jul09 10:47 pm from Nigel
Okay, my poem has no rythm or rhyme whatsoever, but it conveys the idea of the
smear method in poetic format.
95Jul09 11:07 pm from Mordrak
zeylan, i liked the rhyming scheme in your shit poem.
95Jul09 11:12 pm from Mordrak
once again i sit on my cold porcelain throne,
the water splashing up my ass chilling my bones.
what a fool i was to have not learned my lesson,
still roaming the outdoors and dropping my essence.
just before leaving my house for this grand hike,
i had some bad granola by the rising sun's light.
i did not notice anything walking through the mountain,
until my shit threatened to shoot out like a fountain.
this time i committed the greatest of mistakes,
i climbed that gnarled tree over by the lake.
it wasn't until i was over and high at the top,
that i heard the dreaded sound of my ass going Plop!
it trickled and ran and flew down my pants,
i had nothing to wipe with except my hands.
the poop made my hands all slippery and wet,
i fell out of the tree thinking i was dead.
but luckily i had pooped out so much,
that i landed in it with the faintest touch.
as i sat there astounded with shit up to my knees,
i knew that diarrhea didn't mix with climbing trees...
7-8-95 10:48
howard tang
i think i need help.
95Jul09 11:41 pm from Mr Pube
Shit
Shit
Shit
Shit of Earl
Earl
Earl
95Jul10 9:24 am from Lack of Sleep
Time motioned on
I pondered again
will my eyes always hold me
will I ever release
Waking relief
now forgetting why
where did my mind take me
did I dream again
did I fly
did I die like the many times before
once more I'm left in the dark
wide awake and wondering
shadow images in my head
a brief glimps of where I was
attempts at remembering cause forget.
Between the lines lies the boarder lands
with the shifting plains of existance
the overlapping great distance
not always imagination.
None the less what woke me
what caused my dreamland abandoning
were the cries for real
'twas the sun upon my flesh
I envy the who can stand the day
the sun's burning rays
and those who can sleep, at night.
(c) Xavier Warren
95Jul10 11:20 am from Norbus
How come that mini post from me got stuck on the top?
95Jul10 5:21 pm from Swagman
Kharma.
95Jul11 12:25 am from Mr Pube
Sometimes I lick
Sometimes I bite
Dont suck my dick
And please dont fight
Shes a witch
That stupid whore
What a bitch
And what a bore
Maybe I should take a pee
Listening to Stagger Lee
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT
95Jul11 6:11 am from Lack of Sleep
And, we sing, life is shit, life is shit, the world is shit, the WORLD is shit
and, this is life as I know it, this is life as I know itttttt.
Staggering man
With you bottle in hand,
paper bag
crumpled.
You say to me hhhhhiiiii,
I say fuck off.
You say wwhhhhhhhyyy,
Sober up
Too shitfaced
Worse is the smell.
You say pull my finger,
I broke it,
You say ouch
then moan
begin to puke at my feet
right here
in the street
with your eyes
closed
your trench
Earth toned
or is it shit toned
I don't know
I just walked on by
It sets in
I turn around
I look at the dog in the street
I feel sorry
so I say
to him
Go home dad.
95Jul11 10:32 pm from Nigel
HAHahahahhahahhahahahahah! Funny joke!
95Jul11 11:48 pm from Swagman
Peevish.
Melancholy.
Vexed.
Perhaps
But
I'm not depressed.
95Jul12 12:13 am from MONZI
As we walk these beads of tribulation A light shimmers in the distance The
ground shakes, shakes Center Sky rises around the thoughts That create your
every emotion Directing from the Directors Chair Swallowed up in this fantasy
The True unessential Justice We all know as "Injustice"
95Jul12 8:17 pm from Yacub
Oh my
life is
so pointless
my indentation
of these lines
that indentation
in your loins
Oh my
life is
so pointless
the sleep I lack
makes me so dumb
these keys I tap
make nothing fun
Oh my
life is
so pointless
hand me my leather
95Jul12 9:08 pm from Norbus
The Microwave is Arcing
There's no bottom on it; put it on a block of wood
I can make grape popcorn again
Help me with this hingepin
No matter how you close this door, it won't shut right
Queue the nomad
Another solitary bee?
(ring ring)
All shortcuts are busy
95Jul12 9:55 pm from Zeylan
I like that one, Norbus.
Uncle Joe
dark and
affected
Left
twitch
Punches
a hole in
my bedroom wall
Good fucking job.
Have
another hit
of crystal meth
and a jalapeno
why
don't
you.
95Jul13 10:27 pm from Mordrak
eat the meat, because it is tastey.
eat the meat, because it used to live.
eat the meat, because it's so juicy.
eat the meat, just because i said so.
95Jul13 10:54 pm from Nigel
here is a poem a jingle a jive I sit and I write my braincase thrives
oh shit. I messed up the formatting.
95Jul13 10:56 pm from Nigel
Okay, dumbpoem number 1 revised.
Here is a poem
a jingle, a jive
I sit. I write.
My braincase thrives
I am so smart!
I am so cool!
I can fart!
I can drool.
Brilliance and insight
go hand in hand
stupidity and mindlessness
are not in the CLAN
95Jul13 11:15 pm from Yacub
Prevert
95Jul13 11:15 pm from Yacub
Uhhh I'm completly re-tar-did s
95Jul14 11:10 am from Norbus
Would you please write poems that aren't so obvious? Thank you.
95Jul14 6:00 pm from Psyche
Jacques Prevert
95Jul14 8:30 pm from Mr Pube
- sphincter -
95Jul14 10:31 pm from Swagman
POETRY
And it was at that age...poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, not silence,
but from a street it called me,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among the raging fires
or returning alone,
there it was, without a face,
and it touched me.
I didn't know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind.
Something knocked in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first, faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing;
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
the darkness perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire, and flowers,
the overpowering night, the universe.
And I, tiny being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss.
My heart broke loose with the wind.
--Pablo Neruda
95Jul14 10:43 pm from Zeylan
No no no. This room is for original poetry, not this reprinted shit. Keep
that other shit outa here. Spft. Cat Poem Time!!!
Steely
cat
She comes to the window.
I see her
zealous feelings
pain
unbridled of the kind
all too familiar;
she looks for me.
But I
have gone,
Freely
that
which has no shadow:
forever
jealous concealings
stain
my saturated mind
in ways peculiar.
Don't wait for me,
for I
moved on.
95Jul15 2:13 am from Spock
Nice and real.
Defocus
The Lawn but only some blades quiver.
Forget
Shimmer dark sun on hedges unkempt.
Remember
Resent but only some means are justified
Maybe
95Jul15 8:09 am from Swagman
Jesus Zeylan, you can be an ignorant prick sometimes. Fuck you.
95Jul15 10:00 am from Swagman
Oops, sorry Zeylan. What a mistake to post a poem in here by a Nobel Laureat
in Literature. You didn't even read it I'll bet. What a sorry lack of
appreciation of the profound and sublime. Ok, proceed on with your cat
doggerel and bilious jabberwocky. I shall not attempt to throw pearls before
swine in your room again.
95Jul15 10:32 am from Norbus
Are you swining about my poetry as well?
95Jul15 11:18 am from Mr Pube
Maybe today I'll go
Or maybe today I wont
Yesterday was the same
As far as shitting goes
Every single pill and drink
And all the shredded wheat
Why can't I take a dump?
Little shits are neat.
95Jul15 12:28 pm from Spock
Hey! That was actually clever and not something you'd find on a bathroom
stall. Well, actually, I'd like to see that on a bathroom stall.
95Jul15 1:19 pm from Nigel
I went up to this place called "Twin Towers" on Friday night to watch the
sunset. On the way up I passed about a billion hikers, and one of them said
"Hey, there's about 250 more." Even though his was kidding, I still passed
about 30 or so. Hmm. Then I saw some woman walking her dogs - they were
drinking out of this calm little "stream" (if you will)... Big big golden
retrievers. I wonder what they think. They seem so dumb. I wonder what the
life of a dog is like. I wonder if they communicate among themselves. I
wonder if they can "talk" to cats. Hmm. Oh well. They seemed happy to be
where they were. Nice and jumpy and slobbery. Anyway, I got there and sat on
this big rock and looked out at Santa Barbara. You know, we sure live in a
really cool town. There is so much stuff to do here... Just that lots of
people are too lazy to go exploring. Oh well. Their loss. The fog was
creeping in off of the ocean, the lights in the harbor were twinkling. It was
that time when you can see the city lights but you can also see your way
around... Not too light, not too dark. The sun set. Did you know that the
Jupiter probe is going to heat up to twice the temperature of the sun. I
wonder if people will ever live on a different planet. I wonder if people
will ever live on the moon. I wonder if time warps are possible. I wonder
how many people like to sit on a rock and wonder. Wondering is wonderfully
wonderful. The Sierra Club people gave me a ton of dirty looks. Following
the "rules of the trail," mountain bikers are supposed to get off and let
hikers and equestrians pass. Well, the road to Twin Towers is a fire road
that has been eroded and washed out because of the storms, and it skinnies
down to a singletrack here and there. I stopped on the singletracks. Every
one. I got two thank-you's and many glares. I wonder what I did wrong? I
didn't stop when the trail widened to the size of a road. I still got
glares. I wasn't hurting anybody. I wasn't endangering anybody. Oh well.
The sunset was beautiful and I rode home thinking about the Pea-Soup-Land that
Santa Barbara would soon become. See, when the marine layer comes in during
the night, you can get above it and look out... Everything looks like pea
soup. Different colored city lights illuminate the fog... it's really
surreal. Hmmm. I'm gonna miss this place.
95Jul15 5:43 pm from Mordrak
it's because this room is for barf. not for poet laureate stuff.
95Jul15 6:29 pm from Zeylan
Gee, Swag, if you want to post unoriginal stuff stuff in here, I could fucking
care less. It's your BBS, do whatever the fuck you want. I could go out and
buy more books on poetry if I wanted to read that, but instead I was thinking
that maybe I'd like to see some new stuff. Silly me. Posting stuff you
didn't write takes no effort or creativity whatsoever, so if that's how you
want to express yourself -- using other people's words -- go right ahead. I
was hoping this room would be used for _new_ and original poetry because I was
sure that the users of this sytem are creative and insightful, but once again
you have proven me wrong through example.
Sow how about some Emily Dickenson? Poe? Got that poem about being lovely
as a tree? I think I've only seen that one about ninety-seven times, I think
I'm due for one more trip. Maybe you could even sign your own name to the
bottom of it.
95Jul15 6:44 pm from Barfing Skull
Is barfing supposed to be the actual topic of poetry here? I'll have to give
it some time before I'm actually compelled to write about food expulsion. Let
me get back to you.
95Jul16 3:47 am from Mr. Dog
Was there some tacit contract restricting this room to unmitigated, amateurish
drivel?
Is there any reason to think that entering quality unoriginal poetry will
somehow make it impossible or painful for users to enter their own poetry?
Are we so weak-minded that seeing something good will make us utterly lose
heart and quit our own efforts? Or will reading excellent, accomplished work
on the contrary inspire us? If you don't like reading the poems Swagman
enters here, Zeylan, why don't you (N)ext through it? I'd like to see
more of it. My appreciation of poetry isn't limited to a lot of loquacious
wanking-off at other people's expense.
Man, Zeylan, you're a perpetual WHINER, aren't you? It's pathetic. I
suppose I should give you credit for not threatening to anally pentrate his
mother, though -- that sort of rejoinder seems to be the norm for you. Still,
by ordinary standards, you comport yourself like an infant with a bad cold and
a boo-boo on his knee. Maybe if someone gave you a rubber nipple you'd shut
the hell up.
This room should be for enjoying poetry regardless of its origins, not
for juvenile exercises in tyranny.
95Jul16 9:07 am from Nigel
Since when can you call people whiners? Every day you leave whining half page
messages in every room.
95Jul16 1:04 pm from Zeylan
That is the essence of a whiner -- whining about other's whining. Mr. Dog
apparently has some sort of B.A. or PhD in it.
95Jul16 9:37 pm from Mr Pube
He the Captain of Crap.
95Jul16 11:55 pm from Spock
Half moon. Wanes
"Tsk Tsk, how pathetic" litanies the tree.
Sycamores?
"Sycamores only grow in the ravine"
Surveys said: "Not There"
"You pressed VCR instead of TV on your remote"
I didn't make it to the water tower.
"Sycamores only grow near water"
Don't we all.
95Jul17 12:05 am from Spock
Don't forget, I'm someone else.
95Jul17 5:40 am from Mr. Dog
...and by the same token Zeylan whines about someone else allegedly whining
about his own initial whining. So if not thus self-described as the essence
of querulousness, what? Ad nauseum (to me). Barf, but not poetic.
Nigel, your hyperboles make you ridiculous. No comment (despite
appearances).
Ph.D. is an acronym for "Piled higher and deeper." At any rate, my
pedigree (!) isn't quite that high, quite that deep.
95Jul17 9:49 am from Zeylan
Mr. Dog, I know there's a poet somewhere under your fur. I'd like to see
something of yours, if you wouldn't mind sharing it with us here.
95Jul17 7:01 pm from Nigel
My hyberboles make you dickridgeulous
95Jul18 2:01 am from Mr. Dog
My hyperballs make your dic...Um, I think we should drop this right now.
OK, I'll post some of my poetry when I get a chance to retrieve it from
storage (the dusty closet downtown or the sealed crypts of my harddrive).
95Jul18 12:44 pm from Zeylan
Great. Or if you can't find it, write something new.
95Jul18 2:17 pm from Norbus
It's preferrable if it's new.
95Jul19 12:02 am from The Wombat
They called him hyper hiker.
95Jul19 11:33 am from Amarantheus
ode to the chicago summer
i love you too honey
but you know
it's really fucking hot in here
and the power's out
and you know
i honestly think i'm too hot
to fuck
95Jul19 3:06 pm from Zeylan
You're never too hot to fuck.
95Jul19 3:07 pm from Zeylan
Well, at least I'm not.
95Jul20 1:57 pm from Amarantheus
Then you've never been stuck in an apartment in CHicago in a midsummer
heatwave when the power goes out so you have no air conditioning and the
windows don't quite open all the way and it's 106 degrees and 60% humidity out
and all the old folks in your building are dropping like flies and all the ice
has melted and even the tap water is warm and you can't do anything but lie
there naked on the bed and stare in disbelief at your discomfort when you
can't do anything to fix it because you're too hot to walk anywhere that might
possibly be air conditioned.
95Jul20 3:40 pm from Zeylan
Neither have you.
95Jul20 11:45 pm from Mr. Dog
Oh, 106 farenheit? Gosh, that's just torture. No air conditioning? And you
don't expire? Astonishing. 106. That's almost as hot as Mercury, isn't it?
Boy, you start SWEATING and everything, don't you? What hell. Sheer hell.
NEITHER of you have ever been in the back yard when the oranges are all
unripe or rotten, when the sun isn't directly overhead, when you're out of
Coppertone, when the neighbors are playing soccer (a tad LOUD), when there are
ants somewhere on the ground, when the grass hasn't been mowed in the past two
days, when the headphones aren't quite SNUG enough, when the coffee mug next
to the (slightly un-soft) beach towel sits at a tilt, when an airplane drifts
silently by BLOCKING YOUR VIEW of a little bit of the sky. It's fucking AGONY.
95Jul21 3:31 am from Norbus
Nice poetry, C&R?
95Jul21 3:32 am from Norbus
My meter's reading nothing in this area.
95Jul21 9:21 am from Psyche
Yep, all life forms have been eliminated.
95Jul21 4:16 pm from Mr Pube
Mr. Dog's posts are painful to read.
95Jul22 2:28 am from Mr. Dog
Good.
95Jul22 2:48 am from Norbus
I like pain.
95Jul22 7:06 am from Swagman
I haven't got time for the pain.
95Jul22 7:07 am from Swagman
However, Mr. Dog's posts are precious.
95Jul22 10:07 am from Psyche
Like little jewels.
95Jul22 1:39 pm from Spock
Like little spewels.
95Jul22 3:10 pm from Mr Pube
Not since I found you.
95Jul23 12:57 pm from Formula 409
Precious is exactly the right word.
95Jul24 8:47 pm from Norbus
Meanwhile back at the branch....
95Jul24 8:48 pm from Norbus
Branch shimmering orange dusklit
Smirking at the freeway sponsored pothole
Forms patter down a short term staircase
Retention is from 9-5
The drip system is getting more obvious...
95Jul24 8:50 pm from Spock
Bar no rhetoric
Yeah, that was me
Tapping the stout and draining til weak
It sucked me dry
2 dead presidents rest with those in peace
Band... those together
95Jul25 2:11 am from Mordrak
do you love it?
i love it.
fuck off.
95Jul25 11:55 am from Nigel
Okay, folks. Here's some poetry.
95Jul25 11:57 am from Nigel
Life in the Fast Lane
95Jul25 12:00 pm from Nigel
Ooops.
Life in the Fast Lane
It's double trouble, with a dash of paprika
Add salt, mix with rabbit, stick in a hot and wet place
and let fester for nine months, or more
Season to taste.
Tractor pull, dying Yule
log.
It's big, heavy, and wood.
Who needs an umbrella? Not me!
Nevah me. The rain is but gasoline- black gold.
I fear no gold.
There once was a girl named Bimbina
with a wet and quivering gina.
She strolled down the street, hoping to meet
A man with a can of Orangina.
Bimbina was stricken with grief.
She tried, but she just couldnUt queef.
The circus freak show was the place she could go
To find cheap orgasmic relief.
But, alas, the young wench was smote
by a clown with a big overcoat.
He showed her inside; her eyes opened wide;
His dick was beginning to smoke.
She wanted to put out the fire-
The heat of his naked desire.
She wrapped her lips around his hips,
Yet the flames grew higher and higher.
She sucked and she sucked and she sucked
She sucked and she sucked, how she sucked!
She sucked and she sucked, she sucked, still she sucked,
And she sucked and she sucked and they fucked.
But the maiden was not flame resistent.
His fiery pecker persisted.
It singed the young Goddess, and burned off her bodice.
Her breasts lept forth-Oy!-unassisted!
As her titties emerged from the rubble,
Her implants sure started to bubble!
Her bubble soon burst, and there is nothing worse
Than a siliconed maiden in trouble.
She burnt to the floor in a pile
Of silicone, clown juice, and bile.
And menstrual blood.
(C) 1995, NiPsYa
95Jul25 12:01 pm from Nigel
Shit. I forgot.
That was written at 12:17 am, 07/24/95
95Jul25 12:02 pm from Nigel
Son'Bitch.
12:17 am, 07/25/95
95Aug01 7:03 pm from Norbus
Okay, here's one from a long time ago when I was still in High School.
95Aug01 7:07 pm from Norbus
"Tamed Rebels"
Times have passed, and days gone by
When together we would roam
The laughter, fun and good times had
We made our lives our own
Each day to say to all who ruled:
"Fuck You! I'll be me"
For Hapiness was in our grasp
Whenever we were free.
At last we now have reached our goal
Adults by eyes of all
But new found freedom wanes each day
as responsibility makes its call
Smiles and laughter fade to grey
as life becomes a trap
To waste our time, to earn our way
no longer sit and rap
I appeal to thee, my faithful friend
do not become enslaved
the trap of time, the hold of life
is only tamed by brave
Together we have memories
of times spent well together
But remember that, through thick and thin
Friends do last forever.
95Aug01 7:08 pm from Norbus
Okay, so it's kinda simple, but it was before I was as messed up as I am now.
95Aug03 1:37 am from Mordrak
i really liked your poem norbus. it brought a tear to my eye. =)
95Aug03 11:48 am from Norbus
Thanx
95Aug07 5:03 pm from Giganto
dame don't you people ever write one line messages?! don't you people ever
write one line messages?
95Aug07 5:18 pm from Mr Pube
sometimes.
95Aug08 1:25 am from Mordrak
your message wasn't 1 line.
95Aug08 12:35 pm from Zeylan
And it a grammatical fuckup.
95Aug08 1:32 pm from Mr Pube
And how!
95Aug17 8:25 pm from Math Blaster
Plaster flies,
A door slams shut
Another person is cut off
One is angry
Another sad
For reasons yet unknown
There be two people
One mad, other sad
Why?
Imagine the door
It's pain and hurt
At being slammed
Imagine the plaster
Reduced to flakes
And isolation
Yet there be two people
One mad, one sad
But totally ignorant
Of the hurting of others.
95Aug17 9:32 pm from Psyche
Damn
95Aug17 11:11 pm from Chunion
Here is some Rollins poetry: He picked up the gun and held it up to his chin
Then he set it down again He picked up the gun and held it against his ear
Then he set it down again He picked up the gun and put it in his mouth Then he
set it down again He picked up the newspaper and laughed at himself "Oh you're
so full of it."
95Aug18 4:43 am from Norbus
!! your dead.
95Aug18 4:44 am from Norbus
fuck fuck! "you're" And I swore tonight. Think about it.
95Aug18 9:02 am from Psyche
"Think about it." Your dead
95Aug18 7:17 pm from Swagman
Not my dead, it must be your dead. I thought about it.
95Aug18 7:47 pm from Norbus
"I quite agree with you," said the Duchess; "and the moral of that is -- `Be
what you would seem to be' -- or, if you'd like it put more simply -- `Never
imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that
what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been
would have appeared to them to be otherwise.'"
-- Lewis Carrol, "Alice in Wonderland"
95Aug18 10:48 pm from Worker "B"
tHi
S
is PoE
TRy
tO a CeRtai
/\/
mR. eE
CumMi
n
g
S doNT
as
K mE Y?
95Aug19 3:26 am from Psyche
I'm hallucinating
95Aug19 8:58 am from Formula 409
Come down here.
95Aug19 1:26 pm from Psyche
COme by here
95Aug19 4:16 pm from Norbus
He got down there; said "what you want?" One burboun, one scotch, and one
beer.
95Aug19 9:24 pm from Formula 409
How dry I am.
95Aug19 10:07 pm from Chunion
Norbus, that was a good poem. Here is another one: "James stood in life for a
nice cup of coffee at his local 7-11. Then some guy in front of him reached
back to get one of those stirrer things. 'Hurry up', James said to the man.
Then the man left to go to the cash register and James realized the man had
emptied the pot, and he didn't really feel like waiting for another one to be
made. He shuffled outside and saw a cup of coffee on the hood of a car. 'It
must be that bastard's car,' he thought. Then a man tapped him on the shoulder
and he caught a fist in the stomach. It was the man. Then the man kicked him
and he fell to the ground. Our James felt like crap and just layed in the
parking lot for a while. Another night in the city passd.
95Aug19 10:37 pm from Nature Boy
how wet i'll be, if i don't find the bathroom key...
95Aug20 3:06 am from Norbus
It's not a poem if only your interpretation is obvious. But, that sounds like
what I go through when I drink a cup of 7-11 coffee. That stuff's pretty
harsh.
95Aug20 9:15 pm from Nature Boy
naww... the chill cheese nachos are hash.
95Aug20 10:02 pm from Chunion
The man never had a gun because he never wanted one But now when he's left
alone on the street he wished he had something to ensure his safety on the way
homefrom work.
95Aug20 10:26 pm from Mr Pube
It's better to have a gun and not need it, then to need a gun and not have
one. - Clarence Worley, True Romance.
95Aug21 8:26 am from Nature Boy
guns are cool
95Aug21 10:46 am from Norbus
Why?
95Aug21 12:27 pm from Mr Pube
Guns don't kill people, people kill guns. Or something...
95Aug21 4:59 pm from Nature Boy
no guns don't kill people, gangmembers kill people.gun is got to have, but
not for killing.
95Aug22 12:10 am from Mr Pube
For artistic reasons? To excercise our Bob Blaylock rights?
95Aug22 4:27 pm from Nature Boy
no, to shoot cans and targets, and now and then a gangmember.
95Aug22 6:32 pm from Swagman
read New
95Mar07 12:47 pm from Opie
Then send hate mail.
95Mar07 6:28 pm from Colin Campbell
I found a good description of brian on the net today: brian is just the
shadow on the lung in the chest x-ray, the much publicized cold fusion
experiment, the creep hiding in the bushes by the MAC machine, the oily bilge
pumped into the harbor, the process gone awry and vented to flame at the
refinery, the unaviodable, bottomless pothole filled with water, the fly in
the eye of the starving children in Eritrea, the dozens of of dog turds that
appear on the lawn in the spring when the snow melts, the hairy mole on the
chin of the syphlitic crone, the abandoned strip mine filled with pH = 3
water, the mass of hair and turds plugging up the septic system, the vaginal
yeast infection that won't go away, the pentanoic acid, dimethylsulfide
impregnated tennis shoes in the locker, the reassuring warmth of Louis
Farakhan, the smell in the kitchen from frying week old Iowa kidney scrapple,
the burning, itching anus the morning after eating too many Jalepenos, the
Lyme-disease ridden tick in the child's hair, the look on Corkme's face when
she finally gets Holeburn's pants off and finds out that he's impotent and
can't get it up, the Republican bastard screwing the poor people to line his
own pockets, the senior citizen with Alzheimer's abandoned in the nursing
home, the lump of coal in the Christmas stocking, the elementary school
student held back for the third time, the skidmarks on the new underwear that
Clorox won't even touch, the hairy stubble around Grizzy's raisin-like areola
flapping on the end of her sock-like tits, the letter from the IRS announcing
your audit, the drunk in the subway passed out laying in a puddle of his own
piss, the lipid-filled turd that floats and can't be flushed down, the high
school student who realizes that he's filled in the wrong numbered blanks with
five minutes to go on his SAT test, the red and blue lights from the cop car
in your rear view mirror, the liquid bird shit on the bicycle seat, the
smouldering ruins of the burned out rain forest, the next man who marries
Lorena Bobbitt, the Serb lobbing mortar shells into the hospital in Sarejevo,
the necrotic toe of a leprosy patient, the dust mites breeding in the fur balls
under the bed, the recalcitrant ring of calcium and magnesium salts of soap on
the bath tub, the huge zit on the chin of a student being photographed for the
highschool yearbook, the call from your mechanic saying the car can't be
fixed, the groom still waiting at the alter two hours after the bride was
supposed to arrive, the dog noisily licking his dick in front of your boss
when he comes for dinner, the man who asks the women how long till the baby's
due and she's not pregnant, the rung of the ladder twenty feet off the ground
that breaks when you step on it, the red, bulbous nose of the alcoholic at the
corner bar that's covered with broken veins, Corkme's five o'clock shadow, the
house next to the Fresh Kills landfill on a July day, the drunk that runs the
stop sign and hits the teenagers on the way to their graduation, the turd still
dangling from the cat's butt when she steps out of the litter box, the hard
disk that crashes three months after the last backup, the juvenile delinquent
whose parents wouldn't even show for his court date, the bulging dowager's
hump on the back of the old lady with blue hair, the dried brown tobacco
spittle in the corner of the Louisiana redneck's mouth, the noisy malodorous
fart during communion, the priest reaching into your son's pants, the dinner
invitation from Stalin, the drink of vinegar given to Jesus on the cross, the
genital herpes flareup on the newlyweds wedding night, the pinhole in the
condom, the trip to the latrine with the latest issue of Playboy, the twelve
year old girl's first period that hits her on the day she's wearing her white
pants and delivering her book report in front of the class, the returned
engagement ring, the man that always comes 45 seconds before his wife's ready
to have an orgasm and the bad can of spam that can't even be rescued with
ketchup.
In short, brian is the concentrated, consolidated, focussed, distilled,
recrystallized, sublimed and chromatographed essence of all that could
possibly and conceivably go wrong with a human being who has an incorrect base
pair on every third residue of its genetic material.
95Mar07 6:31 pm from Psyche
But he's so cuuuuute!
95Mar07 6:50 pm from Norbus
There is unrest in the forest There is trouble with the Trees For the Maples
scream opression and the oaks ignore their pleas.
The problem with the Maples and they're quite convinced they're right They say
the Oaks are just too lofty and they grab up all the light
But the Oaks can't help their feelings if they like the way they're made And
the wonder why the Maples Can't be happy in the shade.
Hmmm.... How's that for "The Trees"? I'm sure some of you understand where
this came from.
95Aug22 8:22 pm from Norbus
(ponder)
95Aug23 1:19 am from Formula 409
So, Colin, how do you REALLY feel about Brian?
95Aug23 10:11 am from Math Blaster
It is whispered that soon...
95Aug23 7:42 pm from Colin Campbell
Oh, I've completely changed my feelings about brian. I've decided that in
the past, I was too easy on him.
95Aug23 8:59 pm from Swagman
It's about time you came to your senses, Colin.
95Aug23 10:37 pm from Mr Pube
Brian brian brian..... (sigh)
95Aug24 8:33 am from Math Blaster
We will all hear the tune...
95Aug24 11:43 pm from Mr Pube
Making these desicions
Jesus H. Christ
Look I go
I do
I please you
I listen
I follow
I work
Rarely do I ask you
For anything
But then you expect
More then I'm willing to give
Dont act surprised
Dont act like you don't know
That you've been pushing it
That I haven't been enjoying it
Don't act like what I've been giving
Doesn't amount to anything
Keep in mind what I've done
Appreciate that
Appreciate what I'm doing
Don't dwell on what I'm going to do
95Aug27 1:59 am from Mordrak
to fear to know that one is human like the rest of us. to think that fear is
not real is to deny yourself a basic feature needed to survive. i know people
that are too much "man" to ever admit that anything ever scared them. my
theory is that these people are fools. remember your childhood? what made it
special? all that wonderfully blind belief of magic and innocence. where the
good guy gets the crap beaten out of him, but still manages to defeat the
loathsome antaganist and get the girl? or perhaps memories of the first trip
to the dentist or the scary hallway at night? what made all those things so
special on recollection? it was that blissful fear that made your heart pump
and your hair stand on end. fear is an "emotion" that has probably been at
the root of many fond memories, whether some realize it or not. i cannot end
by saying that fear is great, or fear is wonderful, except maybe that fear is
what everyone requires to live an ideal existence. of course, i may be
completly wrong. just some thoughts on a ponderous night...
95Aug27 12:22 pm from Mr Pube
I don't know why people look back on their childhood happily. I look forward
to a time when I don't have to be afraid of anything. I think I'll eventually
be just too busy to be afraid of anything. I'll probably look back, as I do
now, wishing I was back in 6th grade with next to no responsibility.
95Sep05 5:13 am from Lack of Sleep
on the carpet I walk,
nasty critters I stalk
DIE YOU FUCKING FLEA!
as I crush thee
between my fingers.
95Sep05 9:24 am from Psyche
Blip
blip
bleep
changing channels, whee.
95Sep05 7:39 pm from Lobo
The baby moon, a canoe, a silver papoose canoe, sails and sails in the Indian
West. A ring of silver foxes, a mist of silver foxes, sit and sit around the
Indian Moon. One yellow star for a runner, and rows of blue stars for more
runners, keep a line of runners. O foxes, baby moon, runners, you are the
panel of memory, fire-white writing tonight of the Red Man's dreams. Who
squats, legs crossed, and arms folded, matching its look against the moon
face, the star-faces, of the West. Who are the Mississippi Valley ghost, of
copper fore heads, riding wiry ponies in the night?--no bridles, love arms on
the pony necks, riding in the night, a long old trail? Why do they always
come back when the silver foxes sit around the early moon, a silver papoose in
the Indian West.
95Sep05 7:39 pm from Lobo
little Noth American poetry ofr ya...
95Sep05 11:26 pm from Lack of Sleep
try adding a space before each new line.
like
this
get it?
running running
running around
minithin high
not a good thing
ability to piss denied
all the water I drank used up
poison in side me
GIVE ME!
gatorade
WHAT THE FUCK?
poweraid tastes like shit!
driving
driving
WINDOW!
AIR!!!
too late
what i didn't have in me
now lies behind me
spattered on the road
and maybe a car or two
I feel better now
like a fucking bloated cow-OH NO NOT AGAIN!!! WINDOW DOWN!!!!!!!
95Sep05 11:26 pm from Lack of Sleep
true story
95Sep11 4:57 pm from Lobo
J789IM (the 789 is silen)
fell d
o
w
n
and knocked
the JIM from his name
and is NOW
NO ONE...
95Sep12 3:07 pm from Norbus
Well, he's 789 but it's silent.
95Sep13 8:27 pm from INCORRECT PARAMATER
That reminds me of that old joke about the P in Pool being silent.
95Sep13 11:13 pm from Psyche
P rhymes with T, you know.
95Sep14 12:29 am from Luminary Coremaster
We've got big Trouble, right here in River City!
95Sep14 6:43 am from Lack of Sleep
River city, but where was the river? I don't remember their being a river.
95Sep15 2:03 pm from Opie
River City Ransom.
95Sep30 8:33 pm from Whacko Man
Whem me prayers were poorley said, Who tucked me in me widdle bed, And spanked
me ass til it was red, Me mudder
Who took me from me cozy cot, And put me on the ice cold pot, And made me pee
if me could not, Me mudder
And when the moring light had come, And in me crib me dribble some, Who wiped
me tiny widdle bum, Me mudder.
Who would me hair so gently part, And hugged me gently to her heart, And
sometimes squeezed me til me fart, Me mudder.
Who looked at me with eyebrows knit, And nearly threw a king sized fit, When
in my Sunday pants me shit, Me mudder.
LETS HEAR IT FOR MOM!!!!
95Sep30 8:50 pm from Swagman
Thanks, Whacko Man, I saved that...
95Sep30 9:08 pm from Norbus
How sweet :o)
95Sep30 10:39 pm from Seizure
awwwwww.
95Oct01 8:54 am from Nature Boy
what? what was he mumbling about?
95Oct02 12:40 am from Luminary Coremaster
Is it Mother's Day already? Nah, couldn't be....
95Oct02 5:45 pm from Whacko Man
Thank you Thankyou. I was nothing really. Thankyou.
95Oct02 8:52 pm from The Wombat
Ahhh Whacko reveals himself to be an existentialist. He was nothing, but now
he draws power from the fact that he exists.
95Oct03 1:10 am from Luminary Coremaster
Intriguing!
95Oct03 3:07 pm from Whacko Man
aaaaauuuuuuuuuggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 I have lost my
whoppoduudlleydooperidsobopathingamajig. I need to borrow yours. Maybe you are
not here. I will try again tomarrow. please let me borro-w it
95Oct03 3:33 pm from Whacko Man
On the basket ball court., dribbleing, dribblind. going down stream. gotta
find a kleenex to wipe off the dribble going down in a stream. gotta stop
lookin at those fine chicks that cause me to dribble.{in more thane way.} .
gotta find ugly farts to drive me away. i think I am going to go take a nap
now. bye see you later
95Oct04 4:44 pm from Whacko Man
uhhhh uhhhh here I sit uhhhhing i don't know why I uhhhh but I think it is
because of the tiki gog uhhhh. I don't really know but I uhhhh, just to uhhhh.
I guess I like to uhhhh because it sounds cool. my locker combination is
12-26-35 that is for my P.E. locker but I dunno why I am telling you because I
am just a uhhhher. %pw
95Oct05 12:43 am from The Wombat
And with that, the inate user was *BLIP*ed. Strange. He tried to use a
Renegade MCI code in Citadel... What does this tell us? :-o
95Oct06 6:19 pm from Mr Pube
He's a tard. But we already knew that.
95Oct06 8:12 pm from Whacko Man
Pube has big Boobs. He watches the tube. Mayt have a mild-laxitive affect if
consumed in large quanties!!!
95Oct06 8:18 pm from Whacko Man
(______________)
/----------------:
/: :
* : :
: :
^ ^:
:SDFS(gf
95Oct06 8:24 pm from Whacko Man
What we say to Ender. "ENDER! ENDER! THIS IS THE LAST TIME!!!!!!!!! I TOLD YOU
TO STOP DIGGING IN THE TRASH!!!!!!!!!!! IF YOU DO IT ONE MORE TIME YOU WILL BE
NUTERED!!!! WHAT ender hears. "blah blah ENDER! BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH
BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH ENDER! BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH
tutered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH b AG LADY TRASH
DIGGER!@!!^%@^#^$#@^$#e@BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH
BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH TUTERED!!!67407903265-9348*)%(&$%#^@%(@*#&BLAH BLAH BLAH
BLAH BLAH BLAH ENDER!!!!
BLAH BLAH BY ENDER THE DOG.
95Oct08 4:14 pm from Mr Pube
If I had big boobs I certainly wouldn't be calling here.
95Oct08 9:03 pm from The Wombat
He'd be going off to SF.
95Oct08 9:18 pm from Formula 409
To dance in a strip club
95Oct10 2:36 pm from Luminary Coremaster
If Pube had big boobs, he'd never leave the house!
95Oct10 2:37 pm from Luminary Coremaster
Hey... Is Whacko Man really Wombat's Brother in disguise?
95Oct11 7:48 am from Lack of Sleep
How should I know, I've never seen him not wearing a disguise yet alone
wearing one.
95Oct14 8:13 am from Whacko Man
HEH HEH HEH!! Look at all the comotion I have caused my little chinchilla!!
HEHEHEHEHEHEH SCRRRREEEECCCCCHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
95Oct14 8:49 pm from The Wombat
Ummmm No comment.
95Oct16 5:53 am from Lack of Sleep
poet barf, usually resembles dried tomatos and blood. must be the red wine.
95Oct17 7:20 pm from Mordrak
i had loved you once
maybe even twice
i spun the wheel
and rolled the dice
it came out snake eyes
i guess i lose
i guess i lied
and so did you
-m.-
95Oct17 7:44 pm from COLON CANCER
Has anybody seen a sample of Bill Waterson's poetry? In one episode of Calvin
and Hobbes, he wrote an alliterative haiku! That's talent, considering he's
putting out around 10 episodes a week(some are discarded)!
95Oct20 10:03 am from Lack of Sleep
ha ha to lack of beauty
repeating in too many minds of my own
I can feel it as it empowers me
this control of mood to extremity
sugar rush oddly felt for the first time
all hallow's eve is nearing to be the now,
the tempting of the mime face
of course not the crow you fuck I snap back.
Painted art works linger on the exact opposite of sight,
they're mear changes in the appearance that all do see
a mask without a mask
a change of what you have naturally
the eyes behind
the eyes behind
the eyes behind the face of make-up mask ego.
You see me strange,
you hear my voices change,
is it a change you can handle?
does it intrigue your urge urge urges to laugh at the lovers of unshocking.
red red red red
lost in though
once again
only in boxers laying in bed
thinking mach 5
one train of thought
for maybe the second time in existance
a love of it
abilities of normal opperation brain wave
a new trance to save in the memoirs of memories
recall recall
and ritalin will never be needed again.
find yourself, you like it no matter how bad, when acceptance is there with
you hand in hand.
(c) Xavier Warren aka Mosier
95Oct23 10:57 pm from Swagman
I Know the Process
I know the process by which to heal
I swim in it, I gaze through it
I breathe it, draw it in deep
Across my shoulders, knees, elbows
Wrists, ankles. Fingertips and
Toes -- roots into space, into the
streets, the cars, the sea of faces
walking and driving past my secure
ensconcement of sidewalk cafe.
So where is my healing in all this?
Do I carry it with me? Does someone
bring it to me? Either way, I have
it already in my pocket, folded,
hidden, ready to use. I'll not worry
about it, it's there when I need it.
Instead, I drink coffee, gaze at
passerby walkers and think about
getting a haircut, wondering
about blond women in black cars,
watching a white-haired old man
turn his head around, eyes following
a young girl in a short skirt. Hey!
I looked too. She appeared nervous as
if she could feel our attention
as if she wished to be invisible now,
away from the penetration of eyesight...
Black & white spotted dog stands
head & shoulders emerging from
a fire-engine red pick-up truck.
Dog's nose up into the air, ears
flapping in the wind, legs spread,
straight, secure, proud, happy.
My third cuppa coffee. A small
child in the high chair in the corner
hammer-pounds his hard plastic toy
into a resonant joyous surface
the table of five next to me
speaks in a foreign cadence
I don't recognize, but I understand
them when they laugh.
I've sat here an hour, seen only
one person I recognize of
all I've observed and I've
observed plenty. I ordered
food, ate it deliciously, luxuriously
rolled it around in salsa and as
the food went down, inside, so did
my thoughts.
I've been looking outward
from my resident point of
being. I'm out in the world. I'm
at home in the world. Damn, there's
a lot of people in my world, sharing
my coffee-shop perch, watching
the theatre, the procession
the party of seeing and being seen. We are
there, here, and everywhere
all at once.
95Oct30 8:17 am from Lack of Sleep
now there's and attention span and a half. I'd have to be intoxicated in some
way or another in order to be able to let it flow out for that long.
95Nov11 11:44 am from Norbus
MetaTrash (v):
Throw away your trash can.
MetaRudeness (n):
It's rude to be rude.
Metaphor (n):
What's a four for?
95Nov11 4:59 pm from Swagman
Whoa, esoterica at it's best...
95Nov12 10:44 am from Angela
Swagman...how was your day yesterday and today.
95Nov12 6:11 pm from Swagman
Ducky, simply ducky. I went to a wedding yesterday. Today, I went down to
the harbor to get my favorite sailing magazine "Latitude 38" and laid around
all afternoon on the day-bed reading and snoozing. Now I gotta go eat dinner,
a modest pork sirloin roast with potatoes, gravy, cranberries, green beans and
apple sauce.
95Nov14 3:25 pm from Lack of Sleep
stop it you're making me hungry.
95Nov14 6:36 pm from Angela
Sounds great. I wish I was eating dinners like that. Lately I have been
living in Jack in the Box and Burger King.
95Nov18 11:29 pm from Luminary Coremaster
I love Jack in the Box. And In-N-Out is a new fast-food haven, even if it
DOES take anywhere from a half hour to 40 minutes in line to get the food.
It's worth it! Good stuff.
95Nov19 6:03 am from Mordrak
(click) back for more, huh? what do you want to talk about today? that
day? do you remember that day? that day when i cried until my soul fell
through the floor? do you know what happened to me that day? hmm? i
found out that i wasn't invincible like i had thought. sad, is it not?
oh god, that day was the worst day of my life. bah, how could i ever
tell you? you are as cold as i thought i was. try? (pause) (deep
breath) imagine a cold empty lump in your stomach. the lump just sits
their spitting out venemous black tar into your body. searing tentacles
that lash at your nerves and it seems like it's all in your mind. you
know why? it was because that's all it was. it was in my mind. the
sheer hopelessness of it, the want of just giving up on life. that was
the worst part about it. i didn't even want to die, because imagining
death was even worse. spending eternity in an oblivion with my hurt
and pain. i had to bite back tears for minutes at a time, only barely
succeding each time. i wanted to throw up that cold lump. i hacked up &
heaved, but nothing ever came out. i would sit for hours staring at the
walls thinking about nothing. that part wasn't too bad. it was when i was
thinking, that was pain. you don't understand pain either? what the fuck are
you? you are what i wish i was? good answer. pain.... have you ever loved?
you don't know what love is? i'll tell you. it's a feeling where all the
problems of the world can go stick a fork in it. it's a feeling where
everything was magical and everything was new. nothing ever felt wrong and
nothing ever felt bad. it is a total surrender of yourself to another person
and knowing that made you even happier. that's love. pain is knowing that
you'll never share that love with another person for the rest of your life.
it is knowing that you can never give out that total surrender ever again,
because you fear what had happened last time. pain is sleeping at nights,
holding the one you wished you could love, while thinking about the one you
had. that's pain. that's all i can handle tonight. come talk to me
tomorrow... (click).
-howard tang-
95Nov19 10:18 am from Angela
Wow! That is so cool you are able to experience that much emotion. I have
been there totally. I woke up in the middle of the night and knew my ex
boyfriend was cheating on me. It was confirmed the next day. I thought only
death could be a way out. Just remember that that love is a gift that you
have experienced and that in itself is great. Love is an emotion that is
wonderful but it is an emotion unto you. It pretends to have something to do
with someone else but it is yours and the fact that you feel that much is
great. Every day will get a bit better and one day (soon) you will learn from
your mistakes or theirs and pick up the peices.
95Nov19 2:10 pm from Formula 409
You've got to cook those tentacles for a long time, else they are impossible
to chew.
95Nov19 4:33 pm from Swagman
Mordrak, Rryntor -- which one of you guys wrote this back in April...
In a house where nobody laughs
And nobody sleeps
In the house where love lies dying
And the shadows creep
A little girl hides, shaking,
With her hands on her ears
Pushing back the tears,
'til the pain disappears
Mama says some ugly words
Daddy pounds the wall
They can fight about their little girl later
But right now, they don't care at all
Everyday people
Everyday shame
Everyday promise
Shot down in flames
Everyday sunrise
Another everyday story
Rise from the ashes--
Ablaze of everyday glory
In the city where nobody smiles
And nobody dreams
In the city where despiration
Drives the bored to extremes
Just one spark of decency
Against the starless night
One glow of hope and dignity
A child can follow the light
If the future is looking dark
We're the ones who have to shine
If there is no one in control
We're the ones who draw the line
Though we live in trying times--
We're the ones who have to try
Though we know that time has wings--
We're the ones who have to fly
95Nov19 6:48 pm from Angela
All your poems are beautiful.
95Nov19 11:49 pm from Zeylan
Mr. Dog's posts are painful to read.
Good, I like pain.
I haven't got time for the pain,
neither have you.
Kharma, they called him hyper hiker.
Damn; Not my dead, it must be your dead.
My meter's reading nothing in this area,
all life forms have been eliminated.
You've got to cook those tentacles for a long time,
else they are impossible to chew.
Come down here, Come by here
Not since I found you
I thought about it,
I'm hallucinating.
Mr. Dog's posts are precious, like little jewels,
like little spewels.
Precious is exactly the right word sometimes.
All your poems are beautiful.
Written unknowingly by Swagman, Wombat, Zeylan, Norbus, Formula 409,
Angela, Psyche, Spock, Mr. Pube, and Mr. Dog, since this room began.
95Nov19 11:49 pm from Zeylan
Granted, it's not exactly Pulitzer material.
95Nov20 12:14 am from Mordrak
swagman, twas not i that wrote the poem.
95Nov20 12:15 am from Mordrak
(click) i hate when you do this. i hate when you just come in, sit
down, and expect me to spill my guts. the funny thing is that i tell you
things that i never admitted to myself. (pause) i knew a girl who loved
to laugh and i loved to make her laugh. she was the most wonderful
person i had ever met. her name was brisa, and she was the person i
loved most in the entire world. she was everything that i had ever
wished for in a person, in a girl, and in my life. in my own selfish
little ways, i imagined her as the most beautiful person in the world and
only i and a select few would be able to see that. nevertheless, she
was... she was...the person who i loved. in her own strange and
neutrotic way, she taught me about how people can love and hurt. brisa
was fucked up in the head and the times i spent with her were trying at best.
sometimes we would be sitting at my house watching t.v., and she would
suddenly start screaming at me and hitting me with her fists. then without
any sign, start crying and curl up in my arms and ask me to make all the bad
things in the world to go away. the only thing i could do then would be to
hold her tight and rock her gently to sleep, knowing that whatever answer i
could give her would be a lie. other times, we would go on great walks
through the forest behind my house and spend the entire day running around and
climbing trees. brisa reminded me of an imp in this mood, because she would
love hiding in the trees and bushes waiting to scare the wits out of me. she
would spring out of some nook or other, with her cotton dress stained with
dirt, laughing hysterically and hugging me with all her might. a lot of
these times, during the walks through the forest, she would suddenly become
very quiet and thoughtful. when she got like this, there was nothing i could
do except wait for her to finish her thought and tell me what had kept her so
occupied. most of the time, she was just pondering about why the trees were
green or why the sky was blue. still, sometimes she would tell me about how
much she hated me or how much she loved me. i would always leave the forest
behind my house feeling empty and cold, no matter which one she told me. many
times i thought she said bad things just to hurt me, but thinking back on it
now, she only said what she was thinking. people fall in and out of love with
each other every minute of the day, brisa was just the type of person that
would tell me whenever it happened. (pause) she never knew just how much she
hurt me with what she said. i confronted her about it one time, and she
looked me in the eye with the most intense stare i had ever seen. then she
smiled and kissed me, asking me what was for dinner. (subject covers face with
hands and begins to weep) (click)
-howard tang-
 
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